#i miss hiking but i hiked all last week so honestly i should be taking a break lmao why js it always timed so perfectly that everyone isout

[massivedrickhead]

Pitch Perfect SpookFest Day 5 - H is for Hike

Words: 9282

Summary: Beca takes Chloe on a hike she used to do with her Dad. It’s a chance for Beca to feel closer to him, and a chance to introduce Chloe to one of her former favourite pastimes. Beca soon discovers that there is more than just memories hiding in the trees.

Notes: Buckle up boys, this one’s a long one! I’ve really let myself have free reign with the horror in this one, and haven’t held myself back at all. I mentioned previously that I’ve been reading almost exclusively horror this year, and Adam Nevill’s The Ritual was one of my favourites, and the setting of this was definitely a little inspired by that.

@pitch-perfect-spookfest

Read on AO3

-

“Bec?”

“Hmm?”

“You doing okay?”

“Uh huh. A little tired.”

Beca’s hands clenched and unclenched around the straps of her backpack, her shoulders burning under the weight of it. 

“We can stop if you need a break?”

“No, I’m good,” Beca said, turning to smile at Chloe. “This is just a bit more physically demanding than I remember it.”

Chloe smiled back and they continued to walk.

“I’m glad you told me to wear these boots for a few weeks at home first,” Chloe said, taking hold of Beca’s hand as she helped her step down a particularly craggy rock. “I think a blister out here would finish me off.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I remember Sheila learning that lesson the hard way. I honestly thought her and my Dad were gonna divorce right there and then.”

“How is Sheila?” Chloe asked. 

Beca shrugged. “I dunno. Better, I think, now that we’re doing this. She didn’t like him just being stuck on a shelf.” As if on instinct, Beca reached a hand around to press against the front of her pack, pushing against the tightly packed interior, trying to feel for the small, hard, object that was wrapped safely in the centre. It hardly weighed a thing, but was the heaviest item she carried.

“I don’t think you’ve lost him,” Chloe said. 

“No, I know,” Beca said, removing her hand. “But it’d be so embarrassing if we got all the way up there and it turns out I left him on a tree-stump near the parking lot.”

Chloe laughed and took hold of Beca’s hand again, this time for no other reason than just to hold it. 

“We’d have to just grab him on our way back and tell Sheila we did it.”

It was Beca’s turn to chuckle now. “Damn, lying to a widow about where her husband’s ashes are scattered? Pretty dark.”

“Better than having to do this hike again,” Chloe replied, squeezing Beca’s hand to let her know she was joking. “Are we much further from where you wanted to set up camp?”

“I don’t think so,” Beca said, removing the map from the plastic pouch hung around her neck. She knew where on the map they needed to be, and had a pretty good idea of where they currently were. “Maybe another hour and a half? We should have enough time to get everything set up before dark.”

Chloe nodded and they carried on following the trail. 

Beca had done this hike more times than she could count. At one time in her life, she’d have been able to do it blindfolded, her feet knowing where to step without any input from her brain.

Now, however, it had been almost a decade since she’d last been here, and she found herself checking the map more often than she really needed to. The whole place felt totally unchanged and yet completely different at the same time. It was like she was viewing it from another angle. Through a different lens. It felt like something was missing.

It dawned on Beca that something was missing.

For the first time in her life, she was walking this trail without her Dad walking beside her.

She tugged on the straps of her bag again, feeling them dig into her already sore shoulders, and she focused on that pain because if she didn’t she’d start crying. 

-

Despite being a little out of practice, Beca managed to set up their tent without much trouble. It was as if her hands knew what to do even if she didn’t quite remember the steps. 

“I love watching you be all outdoorsy,” Chloe said, as Beca slid tent poles through eyelets and hammered stakes into the ground. 

“Oh yeah?” Beca asked. “Is this turning you on?”

Chloe laughed. “A little.”

“If I’d known that’s all it took, I’d have taken you camping sooner.”

That night they ate a dinner of ramen cooked on their gas stove, and they watched the stars begin to appear above their heads. 

Beca lit a small fire to keep them warm, and they huddled together under one blanket, sharing a small cup of spiked hot chocolate. 

“Thank you for doing this with me,” Beca said, her head on Chloe’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Chloe replied, her head resting on top of Beca’s. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know this isn’t your kind of thing.”

“Maybe not,” Chloe said. “But I’m glad I’m here with you.”

They kissed, finished their hot chocolate, and Chloe crawled into their tent while Beca put out the fire. 

Far off in the trees, she heard a branch snap. 

A deer, she told herself. Just a deer.

She joined Chloe in the tent and zipped it up after her with a little more urgency than necessary. 

Their solar-charged camping lamp was shoved in the corner of the small tent, turned to its dimmest settings. 

“Can we keep it on?” Chloe asked, climbing into her sleeping bag. “It’s, like, insanely dark out here.”

“Of course,” Beca said, unable to shake the feeling of unease that, with the lamp on, their tent would shine like a beacon in this pitch black forest. 

Beca didn’t realise how tired she was until she was wrapped in her own warm and comfortable sleeping bag. 

“Night Chlo’,” she mumbled, suddenly unable to keep her eyes open. 

“Night Bec,” Chloe replied. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

-

By the time Chloe woke up the next morning, Beca was already up and preparing their breakfast of oatmeal and sweet, strong, coffee. 

“Morning,” Chloe said, kissing the top of Beca’s head before joining her on the log they had used as a seat the night before. 

“Morning,” Beca replied. “Sleep well?”

“Not bad. Better than you, anyway.”

Beca frowned and turned her attention away from the oatmeal so she could look at Chloe. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you were up all night, shuffling around the tent. Were you looking for something? And I’m pretty sure I asked you to keep the light on.”

“I did,” Beca said. “I never touched it.”

“Well then the battery must have died, because I woke up at like 2 am and it was basically pitch black. I could just see your… shape, sitting at the entrance to the tent.”

“Chlo’ the lamp was still on when I woke up. I slept like a log last night, I was exhausted. Unless I’ve suddenly started sleepwalking at the ripe age of 32, I didn’t move a muscle.”

“Huh,” Chloe said, frowning too. “I was sure…” Chloe shook her head, dispelling the memory of the night before and already reframing it in her mind. “I must have dreamt it.”

“You get some weird noises in the forest,” Beca said, returning her attention to their breakfast. “It can play tricks on you.”

“That must be it.”

After they ate and packed up, they were ready to begin their second day of the hike. If all went well, they’d reach their second camp spot by dinner, and their final destination tomorrow afternoon. 

This used to be a hike that Beca and her Dad did in two days, but because it was Chloe’s first time, she’d planned a slower pace which meant a couple more nights in the wilderness. Not that Beca minded, she’d always preferred a slower pace to her Dad’s break-neck speed, and it meant more nights spent camping, which she loved. But their time together had always been limited, and she needed to be back at the pre-approved custody drop-off spot by Sunday night. 

“You’re quiet today,” Chloe said, her voice breaking the silence that had accompanied them for the last two hours of their hike.

“Sorry,” Beca said. “I’m in my head a little.”

Chloe swapped the stick she’d been using to walk with to her left hand, and took hold of Beca’s with her right. “Don’t be sorry. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I’m fine. It’s just… It’s weird doing this without him.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Chloe said. 

Beca sucked in a breath and puffed out her cheeks as she blew it out.

She hated this feeling, the one she got right before she was about to cry. 

“Bec.”

“I know,” Beca said, clearing her throat. She knew what Chloe was going to say, she’d said it to her what felt like hundreds of times since her dad had passed. She was going to tell her that it was okay to cry. That it was healthy even. That Beca shouldn’t bottle up her emotions. And Beca knew that was true - logically knew that she shouldn’t be holding everything in like a shook-up soda can - but every part of her told her it was wrong. 

Beca kept her tears at bay and they lapsed into silence again. 

For hours they walked, Beca ahead of Chloe by inches. She couldn’t see her, but she could feel her, a millimetre behind her left shoulder. A shadow in her peripherals. 

She could hear Chloe’s footsteps just behind her, in sync with her own, close enough that if Beca stopped, Chloe would bump into her. Her left hand swung back as she walked and occasionally brushed against the textured surface of Chloe’s sweater.

Then Chloe took hold of her right hand.

Beca jumped - almost yelled out - and spun on her heels.

No one there.

Her heart was beating so fast and there was a sound like rushing water in her ears.

“Beca? What is it?”

Beca swallowed, her eyes scanning the trees behind them. She shook her head.

“I thought-” Beca cut herself off, alarmed and ashamed to hear the shake in her voice. “I thought you were behind me. I…” She swallowed again, her mouth dry, her tongue feeling thick. “I just got a fright. I thought you were on my left, not my right.”

Beca clenched her left hand and then shook it out. She had felt something brush against it. Had heard something walking right behind her. 

But she didn’t want to scare Chloe - didn’t want to scare herself anymore than she had - so she told herself she’d imagined it. She rubbed the back of her left hand against the sweater she wore under her raincoat, trying to clear away the residual feeling of having touched something unknown. 

“Let’s stop for a break,” Chloe said, still eyeing Beca with concern. “We have time, right?”

Not here, Beca thought.

“Yeah,” Beca said, not wanting to turn around and put her back to whatever that was, but also not wanting to stay in this spot for another second. “We can stop, but let’s cover a little more ground first.” She turned and carried on walking the trail, unable to shift the feeling that they were being watched, but refusing to turn and confirm it.

Whatever it was, she knew she didn’t want to see it.

You sound crazy, Beca thought. 

Chloe could tell something had deeply rattled Beca, so she didn’t argue and instead jogged to catch up. She decided not to take hold of her hand again, and tried to remain in her line of sight as best as she could.

After what Chloe would call a 30 minute speed-walk, Beca finally slowed and they stopped to take a break.

They took off their packs and Chloe almost cried with relief at the feeling, her aching shoulders and back practically singing now the weight had been removed.

Beca poured them each a coffee from the thermos she’d filled that morning, and they drank it with some cheese and crackers. 

Chloe rubbed at the knot in her shoulder as she looked up at the bright white sky that was peeking through the canopy of the trees. 

“I’m not walking you too fast, am I?” Beca asked, relieved her voice sounded normal again. 

“No,” Chloe replied. “I mean, that last 30 minutes was basically a run, but other than that it’s been fine.”

Beca nodded. “You’ll tell me if it gets too hard?”

“Of course,” Chloe said. Something about Beca had hardened in the last few hours, and Chloe couldn’t work out how or why. It gave her a pit of worry in her stomach, the kind she got when she thought someone might be mad at her. “I’m not, like, slowing you down or anything, am I?”

“No,” Beca said, her eyes widening in surprise. “No, you’re doing great. We’re making good time.”

She sounded sincere, and Chloe felt the tension in her loosen a little. “Good,” Chloe said. She could have left it at that, but Chloe was never one for holding back. She couldn’t swallow her feelings the same way that Beca could. “Sorry,” she said. “I just… I don’t know, I feel like you might be mad at me or something.”

Beca looked even more surprised. “Why would I be mad at you?”

Chloe shrugged. “The atmosphere’s been kinda tense, I dunno.”

“I mean, we’re here to scatter my dad’s ashes, Chlo’, I’m not sure what kind of atmosphere you were expecting.”

Chloe cringed and felt her cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.” 

She turned away and began busying herself with checking her bag.

“I’m not mad at you,” Beca said, her voice softer than it had been a moment ago. “I’m, like, trying to process a lot of feelings right now, and when that happens I go quiet. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Chloe said, turning back around so she could take both of Beca’s hands in hers. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you don’t need to be sorry. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, what kind of memories being back here is bringing up, you are 100% allowed to be in your own head. I just needed to make sure I wasn’t doing anything to make it harder for you.”

Beca nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “And you never make anything harder, Chloe. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you. Any of it.”

Chloe tugged Beca closer and wrapped her up in a tight hug. “Whatever you’re feeling, or trying to work through, I hope you know that you don’t have to do it in your head. If you want to talk, or even just think out loud, then you can. I can talk it through with you or just be a sounding board. But only if you want to. We can walk in silence, or talk about something completely different. Whatever you need, Bec.”

Chloe felt Beca nod against her, and she held her against her chest until Beca ended the hug. 

They packed up, their backs groaning as the weight of the packs settled against their shoulders again, and they carried on walking.

The silence between them remained, and Chloe couldn’t think of any way to break it. 

She knew Beca needed it, but she hated it. 

Hated it because she was starting to feel on edge.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

-

Dinner that night was spaghetti in sauce with some kind of mystery meat. Chloe had grimaced as Beca had squeezed it out of the vacuum-sealed packet, but once it had been heated on the stove Chloe’s mouth had watered at just the smell of it.

“It’s not scientifically possible that spaghetti from a bag should taste this good,” Chloe said, trying to scrape up every last bit of sauce.

“I know,” Beca said, her mouth almost smiling. 

Beca hadn’t been able to shake the darkness that had been growing in her chest since that morning, and it had only gotten heavier as the day wore on. Each step caused a rock to harden in her chest, and now it was almost nightfall, she felt like she was made of stone. 

Chloe cleaned up their plates while Beca lit another small fire, and they were soon huddled up together as night fell quickly.

“Is this the part where you tell me a ghost story?” Chloe asked, desperate for Beca to get out of her head. 

Beca let out a laugh that was little more than a puff of air through her nose. “I don’t think I know any.”

The silence fell across them again. Beca stared into the fire, and Chloe felt like she was sitting beside a statue.

Then Beca moved suddenly, startling Chloe. She reached into her pack and pulled out the bottle of whisky she’d used in their hot chocolate the night before. 

“Bec?”

“I’ve thought of one,” she said, pouring them each a small measure. She’d brought it with them so they could toast her Dad when his ashes were scattered - something that she realised was approaching closer and closer and that she wasn’t sure she was ready for - she hadn’t intended on them drinking it the rest of the nights. But the whisky had warmed her the night before, had temporarily eased the aches in her back and legs, and had allowed sleep to come more easily. Besides, she figured she might need a drink to tell the story she was about to share.

She took a sip and stored the bottle away again.

“You’ve got a ghost story?”

“Not a ghost story,” Beca said. “But a campfire kind of story.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, pulling the blanket tighter around their shoulders. She wasn’t sure a scary story in the middle of the woods was a good idea, but anything was better than silence at this point.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I got lost in the woods?”

“No,” Chloe said, frowning. “Wait, is this a true story?”

Beca nodded. “I must have told you,” she said. “It’s how I got this.” She pointed to the scar on her cheek.

On instinct, Chloe reached out to touch it. She had asked Beca about it before, had even joked that it must mean they were meant to be together, since the scar formed an almost perfect “C” on her cheek. 

“You told me you got it hiking, not that you got lost,” Chloe said, her cold fingers tracing the edge of it. 

The light coming from the fire had blinded Beca to the rest of the forest, and the darkness stretched out around them on all sides. Even the stars were hidden by clouds. They were a solo pin-point of light in a vast sea of nothingness. Beca felt like if Chloe let go of her arm, she would float away into space.

Beca took another sip of whisky. 

“I was four,” she said. “Out hiking with my Mom and Dad. Before the divorce. The last time we did anything like that as a family. My Dad asked me to grab some sticks for firewood. I was right beside him. My Mom was in the tent, and he turned to ask her something. When he turned back I was gone.” Beca took another drink. “They found me three days later in a Walmart parking lot, the next state over.”

Chloe felt herself go cold. “What the hell?” She asked, her voice little more than a whisper. “What happened?”

“Not a fucking clue,” Beca said. “I don’t remember anything about it.”

“Nothing?” 

“I remember looking down for a stick, and then I remember this old couple in the parking lot asking where my parents were.”

“Jesus, Bec,” Chloe said. “Did you just wander off?”

Beca took another drink, her eyes burning from the heat of the fire that she refused to look away from. She couldn’t look away, because then she’d have to look into the darkness. Into the forest. She didn’t want to look.

“I was four, I couldn’t have walked that far on my own, not in three days,” Beca said, a hint of strain in her voice. She was suddenly wondering why she had decided to tell this story. She hadn’t thought about it in years. “I didn’t have any shoes on when they found me. No coat or hat or anything. There’s no way I could have survived on my own.” Beca cleared her throat, and took another drink. “They think someone took me.”

If Chloe had felt herself go cold before, it was nothing to how she felt now. She practically shivered. 

“Were you hurt when they found you?” Chloe asked, terrified of the answer Beca was about to give.

“No,” Beca replied. “I was fine. Healthy, even. I should have been malnourished or dehydrated or something. I was perfectly fine, except for this.” Beca touched the scar on her cheek. She cleared her throat. “They asked me what happened for months afterwards, but at the time I didn’t have the words to tell them, and by the time I did, I didn’t remember.”

“Beca, this is insane, I can’t believe I’ve known you for over ten years and I’ve never heard this story. You really don’t remember a thing?”

Beca closed her eyes. “I remember being cold, and I remember…” It came back to her sometimes in her nightmares. The wooden structure. Incongruous to its surroundings, like it had been cut out of a home depot catalogue and pasted into the forest. “It was like a hut.”

A stick snapped in the distance and Chloe jumped, and a nervous laugh followed. 

“We moved basically immediately after. Mom said she felt like everyone was watching her. Judging her. She was the bad Mom who let her kid get snatched from under her nose. They divorced not long after that. Mom blamed Dad, Dad blamed himself. I’ve never been back in that forest. It took me years before I’d even agree to go hiking with my Dad again.” Beca went to take another drink. The cup was empty, and the last few drops splashed against her chin. “I didn’t speak for a full year. I… Jesus, I haven’t thought about this in so long, I thought…”

“Thought what?”

“Thought I was over it. Thought it was like a funny, mildly interesting story. The time I got lost in the woods.” She let out a laugh that sounded strange. Panicked. “What the fuck?”

“Bec, it’s okay,” Chloe said, trying not to catch the panic rising in her girlfriend. She knew it was contagious, this kind of fear, and one of them had to be calm. “You’re okay.”

“They checked me over at the hospital,” Beca said, her voice shaking as every horrible memory from that time came flooding back. “You know, just in case. And he hadn’t. I hadn’t been… But, fuck, I was four. I was four and they were checking… fuck.”

It was all rushing back to her faster than she could process it. She wanted to be sick. 

This is why she kept things inside. Pushed them down and turned herself to stone.

“Did you speak to anyone after? Like a therapist or someone? Someone to help you process it?”

“Like 10 of them,” Beca said. “But all they did was try and get me to remember. Asked me to draw it if I couldn’t say it. The police tried that too. Said I needed to help them out because what if this guy snatches up another little girl, and she doesn’t get as lucky? But there was nothing in there. Nothing to draw. Just a black space. They never found him. No evidence there was ever anyone with me. This was back in the 90s, but they had basic security cameras in the parking lot, and there’s footage of me just walking into the parking lot alone. No shoes. No strange man pushing me out of a car and speeding off.”

“Man?”

“An assumption,” Beca said. “An assumption everyone else made too.”

In the light of the fire, Chloe could see Beca’s hands were shaking. She took hold of them, and Beca jumped at the contact.

“Baby, I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Chloe said, her thumb brushing over Beca’s knuckles as she squeezed her hand.

“I don’t… I don’t know why I thought about it after all these years,” Beca said, the panic leaving her voice as the heaviness returned. “I don’t know why I told you.”

“I’m glad you did,” Chloe said. “You know how I feel about bottling things up.”

Beca gave a soft grunt of a laugh. “Yeah,” she said. 

“You’ve been in your head all day,” Chloe said. “You’re back camping and hiking for the first time in a long time, I’m not surprised that memory came back.”

“I wish it hadn’t,” Beca said, rubbing her free hand against her forehead. 

“I know,” Chloe said. “Let’s go to bed. You’ll feel better after some rest.”

Beca didn’t think that was true, but she knew Chloe was only trying to help so she didn’t argue. 

A night of rest wasn’t going to undo this thing that had happened to her almost 30 years ago. It wouldn’t break up the rocks that had been settling in her chest all day. It wouldn’t change the fact that her dad was little more than a pile of ash stashed in her bag, instead of the living breathing man that should be here.

She tried to give Chloe something close to a reassuring smile, but her mouth barely moved. It was as if this was turning to stone too. Her face a frozen expression of grief and pain. 

“You go on ahead,” Beca said. “I’ll take care of the fire.”

Chloe went into the tent to set up their beds for the night, and Beca was alone in the woods.

Except, she knew she wasn’t alone. That feeling of being watched had never left Beca since it arrived, and she was acutely aware that by standing in the light of the fire, it could see her, but she couldn’t see it. It could be a foot away and she’d have no idea.

Before the fear could take hold and root her to the spot, she began putting out the fire, and then backed into the tent rather than turning around. 

“All good?” Chloe asked, already curled up in her sleeping bag.

“Mhm,” Beca replied. “Light staying on?”

“Please,” Chloe said. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, getting herself ready for bed before climbing into her own sleeping bag. “Weird day.”

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed. 

“I’m sorry,” Beca said.

“What for?”

“Being all… You know. Moody. Brooding. Whatever.” 

“You don’t need to apologise for that,” Chloe said. 

“Still. I’m not myself. Not fun to be around right now.”

“You don’t have to be,” Chloe said. “You’re grieving. Get some rest, Bec. I can tell you’re tired because you’re not even talking in complete sentences.”

Chloe was right. Beca was exhausted and not just from their hike. 

“‘Kay,” Beca said. “Night. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

The sound of rustling in their tent woke Chloe up again that night. 

It was dark. Darker than anything Chloe had ever experienced. 

It was as if the darkness was a physical presence, and not just the absence of light. She could feel it pressing all around her. Smothering her. 

Chloe wanted to ask Beca if she was okay - because who else would be rustling around in their tent - but she found she couldn’t. She was scared that if she opened her mouth the darkness would pour in and she’d drown in it. 

Then she heard another sound which made her blood run cold. 

Beca was crying. Sobbing. Right beside her on the ground. 

Which meant there was something else inside their tent. 

A fear like Chloe had never felt before gripped her so tightly she was afraid she’d shatter. 

She wanted to cry. To tell Beca to be quiet. To do something about this intruder that might wish them harm. 

But she couldn’t. 

All she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and hold her breath and pray that it would go away. That whoever or whatever it was would leave them alone. 

Beca continued to sob beside her, and Chloe realised this was the first time she’d ever really heard her girlfriend cry. She wanted to cry too but she swallowed the urge. 

“Please,” Beca whimpered, her breath shuddering between each painful sob. “Please, I want to go home. I want to go home.”

Her voice sounded so much smaller than usual. So much younger. She sounded like the lost little girl in the story Beca had told earlier that night. 

Beca’s story came back to Chloe like a bad dream she’d tried to forget. 

In her mind, she could see her huddled. Shivering. Looking up at… something. Something her four-year-old brain didn’t understand. Something she couldn’t put into words, but she knew enough to be afraid. 

All Chloe wanted to do was reach out and comfort her, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move because she could still hear this thing in their tent. 

Behind her closed eyes, Chloe could see light. A dim glow that had returned to the tent. 

She almost opened her eyes.

Almost. 

Then she heard another rustle, and she knew they still weren’t alone. It was still there with them. 

Chloe could feel it watching them. 

It had turned the lamp back on. It wanted Chloe to look but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. 

It was silent save for the soft whimpering still coming from her girlfriend. So silent that she couldn’t hear the sounds of the rest of the forest anymore. No animals scurrying or owls hooting, or the wind rustling through the trees.

She could feel its eyes burning into her and she could feel herself beginning to shake as she realised something else.

She’d heard those noises the night before and had attributed them to Beca. 

Now she knew better.

This thing had been in their tent last night too. 

Had likely been following them this whole time.

That feeling she’d had of being watched wasn’t just her mind playing tricks on her. 

The silence dragged on with the feeling of pressure in their tent growing and growing. Chloe felt like she was waiting for a jump-scare in a movie. 

Then she heard the whine of the zipper being pulled, and felt a rush of cold air blow through the entrance to the tent. She heard the zipper again and the soft retreating footsteps of whatever it was. 

They were alone again, Chloe could feel it, but she still couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. 

In her head she counted to ten. Twenty. Thirty. 

“I want to go home,” Beca cried again. “I want my Daddy.”

It was enough to finally force Chloe’s eyes open, and she felt a brief flood of relief to discover they were in fact alone again. 

Beca was curled on her side, knees pulled into her chest, body shaking with each cry for home and for her dad. 

From her spot beside her, Chloe could see that the scar on Beca’s cheek was bleeding. The scar was over 20-years-old, long faded and barely visible, but was somehow bleeding like a fresh wound.

Chloe tried for the rest of the night to wake her, but she couldn’t. Beca remained trapped in the nightmare where she was a lost little girl, begging to go home.

All Chloe could do was hold Beca in her arms. She assumed sleep would never come, but at the sound of the birds and the sight of soft light beginning to filter through their tent, she finally did. 

-

Chloe was alone when she woke up only a few hours later.

She scrambled up and out of her sleeping bag and was relieved to see Beca sitting just outside the entrance of their tent.

The cold air bit at her exposed arms and legs, but she didn’t return to the tent to get dressed. 

Beca was hunched over their camping stove, but was staring off into the trees. Chloe could smell the burning oatmeal in the pan and hurried forward to take it off the heat. 

Beca didn’t even react to her presence. Her eyes were slightly puffy from the hours she’d spent crying the night before, and the cut on her cheek was beginning to scab over. 

Chloe thought she looked empty. Lost.

“Beca,” she said, taking a seat beside her, the wooden log cold and wet against her bare skin. She took hold of Beca’s arm.

Beca gave a grunt in response, but didn’t look away from the trees.

“Bec, last night…” She trailed off, unable to find the words she needed to explain what had happened. “I don’t think we’re safe here. I think we need to go home.” Even as she said it, the knot of worry tightened in her stomach. They were at least two days' walk away from where they had parked up, which meant two more nights out here in the forest. 

Beca still didn’t speak, and Chloe’s panic increased.

“Something came into our tent last night. I don’t know if it was an animal or-” she cut herself off as she remembered that whatever it was had messed with their light. Had zipped and unzipped the entrance to their tent multiple times. “Something was in our tent,” she repeated. “And it was in our tent the night before. And it followed us all day yesterday, and I think you know that. I think you felt it too.”

Beca nodded, slowly.

It wasn’t words, but it was something. It was an acknowledgement. 

“So we should go, right? Like pack up and hightail it out of here? I can walk faster,” Chloe said, the speed of her voice quickening as a sense of urgency filled her. “You and your dad used to do this hike in two days, right? Well just walk at that pace and I’ll keep up, or-” Chloe’s words were coming faster. Tripping over each other in a rush to get out of her mouth. “Or we go a different way. Just whatever will get us out of this forest the fastest. We can Uber to the car when we’re back to civilization.”

Beca nodded again, her eyes never leaving the trees. Chloe was too afraid to follow the direction they were focused on.

“Baby, please say something. I’m really fucking freaked out right now.”

Beca swallowed and a tear crept down her cheek, stopping when it reached the raised scab that was still a scar only hours ago. 

“I’m sorry,” Beca said. “I don’t… I don’t know what’s happening.”

“I know,” Chloe said. “I don’t either, but I need you right now. I don’t know what I’m doing out here, and I need you to help me get us out of here. I need…” She trailed off. She had almost told Beca she needed her to snap out of it, but that seemed too harsh.

But then she thought, fuck it.

She needed to be harsh.

She needed to be harsh because she couldn’t get them out of this forest alone.

Because she refused to die out here.

“I need you to snap out of this,” Chloe said, her voice sterner than it had been a moment ago. “Something weird is happening out here, and I need you to fight it. You can’t give up, Bec. We need to get out of here.”

Beca cleared her throat and finally tore her eyes away from the trees. 

“I know,” she said. “I know, I’m sorry.” She pulled out the map, and tapped on a spot. “That’s where we’re headed,” she said, pointing at the place where she intended to scatter her Dad’s ashes. “From there we’ll cut down here.” She traced her finger down a length of what Chloe assumed to be woodland. “A harder path than the way we came, but shorter. There are multiple places to join the trail, and this should lead us to one of them.”

“Have you done it before?” Chloe asked.

“No,” Beca admitted. “But we could be out of here by tonight if we take it.”

Chloe nodded. The unknown was frightening to her, but the way they came didn’t feel much better. “Then that’s what we’ll do. I trust you.”

Chloe dressed and they packed up their camp in record speed.

The oatmeal had been beyond saving, so they each ate a protein bar as they walked.

The pace Beca set was punishing, but Chloe kept up. Everything hurt from her feet to her shoulders, but she didn’t complain. She would not slow them down.

The thing still followed them.

They both knew it, could both feel it, but they refused to turn and look.

Up ahead, they saw the gradual incline of a hill, and for the first time that day, Beca thought about why they were even here in the first place. 

She thought about her dad.

She thought about what she would soon be doing.

These weren’t the circumstances she’d wanted when she’d suggested the idea to Chloe a month ago.

She’d wanted time. Peace. She’d wanted to be able to say a few words. Have a drink. Cry, maybe.

Beca knew now she wouldn’t get that. She knew she was foolish to even still be doing it. 

But she also knew she had to. It was her last chance. 

Once she got out, she would never set foot in this place again, or anywhere like it. 

Because what she knew now was the man that had taken her all those years ago had never been a man.

It was a Thing. An It. Something not human. Something that had followed her to the other side of the country.. 

After all these years, it had found her.

Or had it always known where she was? Had it just been waiting for the right moment?

Had it been following and watching on every hike she’d taken with her dad?

Beca shuddered as the ground sloped upwards beneath her feet. 

It didn’t make any sense, but logic and reason were starting to feel like foreign concepts. 

None of it had ever made sense.

How do you snatch a child from right under her parents’ noses? How does she end up in a parking lot miles and miles away from where she started?

Chloe walked beside her, her right hand holding Beca’s left, as their pace slowed as they climbed the hill.

The thing followed on Beca’s right. Its footsteps out of time with her own.

It wanted her to know it was there. 

Chloe was beginning to pant beside her.

“We can stop soon,” Beca said, her own breathing just as laboured.

Chloe didn’t want to - she could feel it beside them too - but she knew they needed to. 

They crested the top of the hill, and the forest stretched out beneath them.

It seemed to go on forever, and Chloe felt that panic grip her again.

How would they ever get out of this?

“There,” Beca said, pointing in the direction they had to head next, her head down to look at her compass. “Down that way.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, pulling the map out to double check. 

“Okay,” Chloe said. She unclipped the strap across her chest and let her pack drop to the floor. The relief was immediate but the pain still lingered. 

Beca did the same, though she was a little more careful about lowering her bag to the floor. 

This thing that followed kept its distance.

Like it understood this was a moment Beca needed to have before whatever came next. 

She reached into her pack and pulled out the urn that contained what was left of her Dad.

She straightened up and took a deep breath.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this,” she said, speaking to the urn. To her Dad. “I had a whole speech prepared, but I think we have to keep it short. The gist is, you deserve to stay in your favourite place forever. To be with nature, in this forest you loved so much. I… I miss you. I love you.”

Beca opened the urn and tipped out the ashes and they were picked up by the wind. 

She had expected to feel lighter, but she didn’t. She didn’t know how she felt, but they didn’t have time to dissect it right now.

“Ready?” Beca asked. She couldn’t bring herself to glance over her shoulder at Chloe, in case it wasn’t Chloe that was looking back at her. She kept her eyes focused on the direction they were heading as she hauled her pack back onto her bag.

“Yeah,” Chloe replied, doing the same. She handed Beca another protein bar. “Let’s get out of here.”

-

Hours and hours passed and they had no idea if they were even close to getting out.

The trail Beca had chosen for them had been significantly more overgrown than expected.

The terrain was rough, uneven, and dangerous. A lot had been completely impassable and had required them to alter their course to go around it. 

Beca had tried to maintain their pace but it was proving reckless. One wrong step could result in a twisted ankle or worse, and that could put them in serious danger under normal circumstances.

The sun was getting lower in the sky, and Beca was forced to bring them to a stop.

They would have to endure one more night in this place.

“I’m sorry,” Beca said, her breathing heavy as they finally conceded defeat. “I didn’t realise how bad it would be.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Chloe replied. “We didn’t have a lot of choices.”

They set up their tent even though they knew it offered them no protection from the thing that still stalked them, and they huddled inside it together without any intention of sleeping.

“As soon as it’s light we head out again,” Beca said, checking the map for what felt like the hundredth time. “I think we went too far south, we need to be more west.”

“Eat something,” Chloe said, handing her one of the vacuum sealed packages Beca had brought, and keeping one for herself.

They ate them cold, and in silence, hunger gnawing at their stomachs even after the last of the food had been squeezed into their mouths. 

“We’re going to be okay, right?” Chloe asked, shuffling closer and linking her arm through Beca’s.

“Yeah,” Beca said, without conviction. “Of course.”

Darkness was falling fast, and only their dim, flickering, camping lamp provided them with any kind of light. 

“I was going to propose,” Beca said, her voice breaking a long silence between them. “Before my dad… Then I thought maybe I’d do it when we got home from this trip.”

There was defeat in Beca’s voice and it made Chloe feel helpless. 

“When you ask me when we get home, I’ll say yes,” Chloe said. “I’ll even act surprised.”

“What if I asked you now? Would you say yes now?”

Chloe wanted to cry. “Are you asking now?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I think I am.”

“You have to actually ask me,” Chloe said, tears coming quickly now. 

Beca laughed and sniffed and cleared her throat. “Chloe Beale, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Chloe replied, her voice hiccuping as she half laughed and half cried. “But you have to promise me we aren’t going camping for our honeymoon.”

“After this, I’m never going camping again.” 

Beca hurried to wipe her eyes before kissing Chloe for what felt like the last time. 

Darkness had truly fallen now, and she knew their time was short. 

“The ring is in the bottom drawer of my desk. The one with the lock. Key is taped to the back of our photo,” she said. 

Her brief moment of joy was now being replaced by the fear that had followed them all day. 

It was coming. 

She could hear the snapping of sticks in the distance as it made its way over to them. 

“You can give it to me yourself when we get home,” Chloe replied. She could feel it too. Could feel the fear radiating out of Beca as the lamp in their tent began to flicker and die. 

They were plunged into darkness. 

The only thing they could hear was their own ragged breaths. 

“Beca. I love you.”

Beca didn’t reply, because she was already gone. 

-

The darkness lifted so slowly, Beca thought maybe she was just imagining it. Maybe her eyes were finally adjusting after so long in the pitch black. 

But then it got brighter. 

She thought it was the sunrise, but she knew that morning was still hours away. 

What was that old saying her grandmother had said about a red sky at night?

She reached for Chloe’s hand, but Chloe wasn’t there. 

There was no use delaying the inevitable. 

Beca unzipped the tent and stepped out into the blood red sky. 

The ground was cold beneath her bare feet, the wind bit at her now completely naked body, and her breath fogged in front of her face.

This wasn’t the same forest she’d been in only hours before. 

Before her was a clearing free from trees, and in the middle was that wooden structure from her nightmare. 

Beca began to sob.

No no no no no no no

God

Please

Her feet moved of their own accord towards the hut, and the door creaked open to welcome her inside. 

It was so cold. 

The red light filtered through the single window above the door and she could make out the shape of a creature crouched in the shadows.

The door slammed shut.

No no no 

It stood. Its presence filled the space.

It was taller than the height of the hut, and it had to hunch over as it stood.

Its body was too long. The back of its head was flat against the ceiling as it looked down at her.

Red eyes and a smiling mouth with too many teeth. Ram-like horns and hooved feet. Thick matted black hair.

Beca began to tremble.

In her mind she begged and pleaded and prayed but not a sound left her mouth.

She was mute with terror, the same way she’d been as a little girl.

The cabin smelled of the cold. Of rotten leaves and neglect. Of animal waste and rotting meat.

Please god oh please please I want to go home please let me go home

This creature looming over her made no sound. It simply stared.

Like it was deciding what to do with her.

Beca knew she was in the presence of something ancient and terrible.

It was older than anyone alive. Older than the country it lived in. Older than the Gods.

She also knew that this creature was dying.

It was the last of its kind.

And Beca was here to fulfil a promise she’d made when she was four years old.

No words had been spoken but Beca had understood that when she’d left this hut as a child, that she would be expected to return. She would be expected to help.

And Beca had wordlessly agreed.

Yes. Anything. I want to go home. I want my Mommy and Daddy.

It had even left its mark so it would be able to find her again.

It’s why Beca had flat out refused to go hiking again as a child, until every part of the experience had been lost from her memories.

She knew now what would be required of her.

Without telling her body to do it, Beca backed up until she hit a wall, and then she slid down it.

Not this not this not this not this

Her mind screamed and tears rolled down her cheeks, mixing with the fresh blood now dripping from her scarred cheek.

No no no no no no no no no

The creature began to fall apart.

Its horns crumbled into dust. 

Its eyes melted in their sockets and ran down its snout like tears.

Its fur fell away in clumps.

Its skin and flesh sloughed off its yellowing brittle bones.

It was nothing but a pile of bones and teeth and viscera. 

Beca was not comforted by this, and she began to cry harder as she saw movement in that pile.

I don’t want this not this not this please please Jesus fuck please

She remained silent and completely paralyzed as what was left of this monster began crawling towards her.

She couldn’t move an inch. She couldn’t fight. She couldn’t scream. All she could do was watch.

-

Chloe was pacing her apartment, a cut chewed into her lip, a headache pushing against the backs of her eyes.

“Chloe, can you sit down and eat something?” Aubrey asked, her own head pounding as she watched her best friend pace backwards and forwards. “I know you think we’re going to hear something today, but-”

“It’s been three days,” Chloe snapped. “She’s been gone for three days and the last time she was taken she turned up three days later.”

“I know,” Aubrey said, trying to keep her voice calm. Trying to sound rational. “You told me what she told you. Even if that is what’s going on here, pacing a hole in the floor won’t make the phone ring any faster.”

“I can’t sit still,” Chloe said. “If it lets her go…” Chloe trailed off. It had to let her go. The alternative was unthinkable. “When it lets her go, I need to be ready. Who knows where she’ll end up, so I’ll need to be ready to leave at a moment-”

Chloe’s phone ringing and buzzing from the countertop cut her off.

“I can’t,” Chloe said, suddenly frozen in place. “Aubrey, please, I can’t.”

Aubrey nodded and answered.

“Chloe Beale’s phone, Aubrey Posen speaking,” Aubrey said, in her best lawyer voice. “Oh my god are you serious? You found her?!” Aubrey’s eyes were wide as she looked at Chloe. “Wait, she’s where? How did she - you know what, never mind, we’ll get there as soon as we can.”

Chloe felt relief flood through her like someone had opened a valve of it in her brain.

Beca was alive.

“Oh,” Aubrey said, her shoulders dropping. Chloe’s stomach dropped with them. “I’m sorry I think you have the wrong person, Beca isn’t… You’re sure? Like 1000% positive because if I tell her fiance this and you’re wrong I swear I will sue you to… Okay. Shit. Okay. Um, thank you detective. I’ll speak to Chloe now and we’ll… Yeah, we’ll get there as soon as we can.”

“Well?!” Chloe demanded as soon as Aubrey put the phone down. 

“Chloe, sit down.”

“I’m not-”

“Sit down.”

Aubrey’s voice left no room for augment. Chloe sat down at the kitchen table. She fiddled with her engagement ring, twisting it around her finger as she waited for Aubrey to speak.

“She’s alive,” Aubrey said. “They found her in a Walmart parking lot and they took her to a nearby hospital. The detective is going to text the address.” 

“Is she okay?”

“She’s in labour.”

Chloe blinked. Thought for a second she was having some kind of stroke. Or maybe a hallucination from lack of sleep. 

Then her shoulders sank the same way Aubrey’s had. “It’s not her,” Chloe said. “Beca wasn’t pregnant.”

“Chloe-”

“Beca wouldn’t have cheated on me. And even if she did, even if she was somehow miraculously pregnant, she was certainly not pregnant enough to be in labour.”

“She’s asking for you,” Aubrey said. “That’s what the detective said.”

“‘Bree, this is impossible,” Chloe said, her voice breaking. 

“So is a lot of the stuff you’ve told me in the past 72 hours,” Aubrey said. “Maybe the detective is wrong. Maybe something else is going on here. But we have to find out, right?”

Chloe nodded. “Let’s go.”

-

They arrived at the hospital the next afternoon, after an overnight flight and long drive in a rental car.

The detective met them at the entrance.

“Ms Beale? Ms Posen? I’m Detective Farrow. Please follow me.”

“How is she?” Chloe asked, her hands shaking as she followed the detective through the winding halls of the hospital.

“Okay, considering,” he said. “Still in labour, though I hear it won’t be much longer. Seems like the baby was waiting for you before making its entrance.”

There’s no baby, Chloe thought.

“When can we see her?” Aubrey asked.

“Not sure, not my circus so to speak. Down to the doctors,” he said. “You should have given the police and mountain rescue folks a heads up about her being pregnant by the way.”

“She wasn’t pregnant.”

“You thought she was just gaining weight or something?”

“Look,” Chloe snapped, pulling out her phone. “Here is a picture I took of her two days before she went missing.”

The detective frowned as he looked at the photo. 

“Huh,” he said. “I’ll be damned. Late bloomer, I guess, in the stomach department.”

Chloe was starting to get annoyed with this guy.

“Can you find someone I can talk to about my fiance?” She asked. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but there was a series of shouts coming from a room up ahead. He turned, his hand resting on his gun.

A man in scrubs came stumbling out of the room looking horrified. Chloe saw the name Mitchell scrawled on the whiteboard outside the door.

Her feet started moving before her mind could make sense of what was happening, and Aubrey’s hand closed around her arm, pulling her to a stop.

“Everything okay, doc?” The detective asked.

The doctor shook his head, practically tripping over himself to get away from the room.

“Has something happened to Beca?” Chloe asked, her voice shaking. “To the baby?”

“That… That’s no fucking baby,” he said.

The screams and shouts continued coming out of Beca’s room and more doctors and nurses began fleeing.

Chloe pulled her arm free of Aubrey’s grasp and she ran for the door.

She took a deep breath before she pushed it open.

In the days that would follow, a smartly dressed man would arrive and introduce himself as being a part of the FBI. 

Beca and Chloe neither checked nor cared if his credentials were real.

He promised he would help, but only if Beca could tell him exactly what happened.

Beca couldn’t, and he would leave seemingly disappointed.

That same night, a nurse would tell Beca, with a straight face, that her baby had died. They could see her mouth twist at the word ‘baby’. 

Beca had no reaction, and Chloe was secretly relieved.

Beca would tell Chloe months later that she thought the FBI guy took it. She would tell her that she hoped it wasn’t suffering, but that she also hoped it was dead.

But that was all to come. 

Right now, Chloe had to confront the horror she had just walked in on.

Beca was on the bed, staring blankly out of the window to her right, her legs still in stirrups.

The room was empty of medical staff, and Chloe could hear the dripping sound of blood hitting the floor as it ran from in between Beca’s legs.

They hadn’t even covered her up before they fled.

Chloe’s hands were on her mouth as her eyes travelled up Beca’s body.

On Beca’s chest was something small. Hairy. Horned and hoofed. Chloe could make out the red of its eyes as its razor sharp teeth bit and tore at Beca’s breast.

It lapped up the blood that flowed.

Chloe swallowed. 

“Beca?”

Beca’s head turned. Her eyes were hazy. Glazed over. Lost. 

Somewhere in there, Chloe could see her fiance begging for help.

“Hi Chlo’,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. “Have you come to meet my son?” 

[p-artsypants]

The Pale Rider (7) Using the Old Boot Straps

The Isle of Berk is cursed. Like, extremely cursed. It has been for generations. The extent of the curse has been forgotten over time, but no descendants of the original village are able to leave the island, lest they suffer a gruesome fate. Three years ago, the Blacksmith invited the Pale Rider to town. He’s a creature that’s haunted the forest and childhood campfire stories for centuries. Now, he arrives every day at noon. One day, Astrid Hofferson decides to be brave and talk to him. He’s actually really nice…for an eldritch abomination. A Beauty and the Beast AU.

Ao3

Even after a week, Astrid still had bruises. Her side hurt, but she could get around. 

It didn’t mean much. She had no cart to sell flowers from. Luckily, she had a handful of orders come in. Anniversaries, well wishes, congratulations, these tried and true events could be planned for. She was just missing out on the spontaneous purchases. On people walking by and seeing the beautiful blooms and thinking, ‘oh I want some of those.’ 

As Astrid was out in the garden, assembling a bouquet for an older couple, a friendly voice greeted, “getting right back into it, huh?” 

Astrid looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Snotlout. What brings you to this side of the village?” Oddly, he wasn’t wearing his guard uniform either. Just a green tunic and leggings. The Rider’s gifted sword was still on his hip though, along with a satchel. “And where’s your armor?” 

His smile turned sordid. “I guess I forgot to tell you, huh? I had been meaning to, but uh…well, Dagur got me. I was relieved of duty.” 

Astrid’s heart sank. “Oh no!” 

“But it’s okay!” He put his hands up. “‘Cause honestly, I didn’t wanna do that job anymore anyways. The guards are all stooges for Oswald and Dagur.” 

“So what are you going to do now?” 

“I’m a pioneer, you know. I’ve made my own niche in the village, and it’s going very well.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah! Mailman! Mailman! Oi Oi Oi!” He cheered, pumping his fists. 

“Mailman, hmm? I can see it.” 

“Viola!” He handed her a piece of paper. “My going rates. And I’m here to offer my services to you, for say…delivering bouquets to clients, or perhaps saucy love notes to your spooky boyfriend in a certain haunted castle on a certain forbidden mountain?” 

Astrid decided to ignore the ‘boyfriend’ part. “You’d go up there?” 

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Maybe not a month ago, but now I know the Rider’s a total teddy bear. Nothing to worry about! Just a little hike!” 

Astrid bit her lip. She really hated the way things ended the last time she had seen the Rider. Even just a letter would help. “Okay, I’ll take you up on that!” 

“Yes!” He pumped his fist again. 

She quickly picked a few flowers and finished the bouquet. “Okay, these are for the Sorenson household. They’ve already paid me for them.” 

“That would be 5 copper fee.” 

“Okay, and for the letter to the mountain?” 

“That’s another five copper.” 

“Really? Even with that hike?” 

“Yep! Because I know he’ll want to respond and I can charge him as much as I want!” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“I can still decline your delivery, missy!” 

She laughed. “Okay okay, why don’t you take the bouquet and then come back? Then I’ll have the letter and the silver piece for you.” 

“Done!” 

—-

Rider,

I hope this letter finds you well, though I can only imagine how lonely you’ve been. It hasn’t been the same around here without you. 

Heather says Dagur has gone completely out of control. There’s chaos in the village. As much as I hate to admit it, I believe it is best you stay away for now, for your own safety. I want to keep in contact with you, and I will let you know when it’s safe to return. Hopefully that will come soon, as Oswald is bound to get Dagur under control once he feels better.

I can’t help but feel this is my fault. I pushed you too quickly, pushed the village too quickly. We should have taken things slower. Maybe then Dagur wouldn’t have been so emboldened. I don’t know, I just feel awful about all of this. You didn’t deserve any of this treatment. 

I hope you bear no ill feelings towards us, or me specifically. We all miss you.

I miss you. 

I hope to hear from you soon.

Love, 

Astrid. 

—

True to his promise, Gobber went ahead and got to work on building Astrid a new cart. This one would be financed by the Rider, and would solely belong to Astrid. She wouldn’t need to pay anyone back. 

Though, she had yet to receive the invoice from Oswald for the cart that Dagur burned. She hoped that when the old man felt better, he’d make Dagur pay for it instead. 

Astrid visited the forge, eager to see what Gobber had come up with. 

It was a beautiful dark wood, picked specifically to enhance the beauty of the bright flowers put on it. The surface was smoothly lacquered, almost feeling like glass. 

“Like it so far?” Gobber smirked. 

“It’s so beautiful! It’s perfect!” 

“I still have to add the awning, and I want to put a rack with holes around the sides so you can display more bouquets! I’m pretty happy with the turn out.” 

Astrid fondly ran her fingers over the surface. “You…put a lot of time into this.” 

“Sure! I wanted to make it good for one of my favorite customers!” 

She smiled, albeit sadly. “Is business down?” 

He waved her off. “Sure, but it won’t be forever! Dagur’s threatening people, but sooner or later, someone’s going to have a toothache!” 

“Or need a blade sharpened, or a deer cut.” 

“That too!” 

“I’m sorry, Gobber.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Lass.” 

“I am, though. If I hadn’t jumped on Dagur’s back…” she rubbed her arm.

“Aye, maybe that wasn’t the wisest thing you could have done—”

Her shoulders sank further. 

“But the Rider needed to see someone fight for him.” 

Was it really worth it? People were being punished for her actions. 

She checked in on the others. At Fishlegs’ bookstore, things were the same. Business was down, but neither Ingerman were worried about it at the moment. Fishlegs assured that the book that the Rider had brought would be plenty to keep them a float for a while. The Twins were similarly optimistic. They had even joked about going up to the castle to ask for retirement funds. 

Though, knowing the Twins, it was hard to tell if it was a joke. 

Heather was a different matter, however. She hadn’t been seen since the Rider was banished, and there was a ‘permanently closed’ sign nailed to the front door of the cafe. 

How Dagur could be so cruel to his own sister, Astrid couldn’t imagine. 

—-

Two days went by before Snotlout returned with a reply. He knocked on the cottage door, grinning mischievously. 

“Afternoon,” she greeted, cautious because of the smile. 

“He wrote back!” He sang, waving the black envelope at her. Even from here, she could see it was open. 

“You little snoop!” She scolded. “And how much did you charge him?!” 

“Enough that he wouldn’t mind me snooping,” he drawled. 

“That’s not how it works, Snotlout!” 

“Okay okay…I just wanted to see what kind of writer he was. You know, if he was literate.” 

“And is he?” 

He chuckled, “is he ever!” 

She snatched the envelope away from him, but didn’t want to seem too eager to read the reply. Instead, she asked, “what’s the castle like?” 

“Boy, I’d tell you all about it, but my feet are killing me.” 

She sighed. “Would you like to come in for tea?” 

“Oh Astrid, that is so sweet, of course I’ll have some tea.” 

She fondly rolled her eyes and let him in. 

“Afternoon, Mrs. H!” He called upstairs. 

“Good afternoon, Snotlout!” She called back. 

He flopped into a chair, kicking his feet up on the hearth. “Ahhh…much better.” 

Astrid put the kettle on. “So…the castle?” 

“Oh! Right! Well, first of all, I didn’t see that much. Just the foyer. But let me start from the beginning.” He sat up and gestured with his hands like he was surveying a canvas. “The path there is actually a lot more clear than I thought. It’s not a hard walk, but it is long. It kinda spirals around the mountain. Then there's these huge iron gates and as I approached, they slid open, and these two huge cauldrons of fire ignited at the top!”  

“Just by walking up?”

“Yep! Super creepy, but super cool! Then, there’s this long bridge you have to cross, and it goes over a giant gorge with a river at the bottom.” 

Astrid leaned over the counter, chin resting on her hands as she got lost in the picture he was painting. 

“And the castle…wow! And I mean wow! Like, we can kinda see it from down here, but that’s only the tip of it. It’s huge with probably a hundred spires! And I swear, some of them were twisted!” 

She narrowed her eyes in skepticism, but didn’t stop him. 

“So, I go over the bridge, and there’s another iron gate, right? Same deal, it opens on its own, big flames at the top, yada yada, inside that gate is a courtyard. And, you know I don’t care about flowers, right?” 

She nodded. 

“The courtyard is beautiful. Roses, vines, big trees, plants that you could probably identify immediately and I’m not doing it justice, at all. And in the center, a big huge stone fountain in the shape of a dragon!” 

“Sounds fantastic,” she hummed. At least the Rider wasn’t living in squalor. 

“Okay, so then I get to the front door, right? I knock using this huge iron knocker, which, by the way, is still in the shape of a dragon. Then a few minutes pass by and our friend opens the door and greets me. He was pretty confused why I was there, but then I handed him your letter and he thanked me and asked me to come back so he could reply.” 

“And that was the first trip?”

“Yep! Second trip, I arrived and he let me in, but had me wait in the foyer. Astrid, I have never been in a room this big. You think the Grand Hall is big? No way. That’s a closet compared to this room! It had arches! And chandeliers! And two winding staircases! And huge black and red curtains everywhere! Actually, next time I go there, I might ask him about the decor choices because there was some unpleasant artwork in that room.” 

“Like what?”  

“Like, right front and center when you walk in, there’s a painting of a guy who’s been stabbed and he’s bleeding all over the place.” 

Astrid felt her lips tighten. 

“Then he came back with the letter, and I left.” He shrugged. “I may have stayed longer, but I wanted to give you that letter…and I got a weird vibe from the place.” 

She leaned forward more, crossing her arms. “What kind of vibe?”

“Call me crazy…but I’m pretty sure the castle is alive.” 

Her eyes widened. “What?” 

“Yeah. I was looking around while I waited, and I swear the walls were moving, and I could feel a deep thud every once in a while.” He wiggled his fingers. “Like a heartbeat.” 

“Now you’re just messing with me.” 

“I’m not! I swear!” He held up two fingers. “You’ll just have to go up there yourself.” 

Astrid had thought about it a few times over the week. Figuring that once her ribs felt better, she could probably make the climb. But she had a fear of leaving her mother for long periods of time. It was one thing to work outside all day, but to be away from the village?

“At any rate, thank you for bringing this to me.” She held up the letter. 

“Your friendly neighborhood mailman, at your service.” 

He stayed for a little while longer after that, drinking tea and talking about how his service was going. He seemed happier than she’d seen in a while, and deep down, she was proud of him.

Though she’d never tell him.

She waited until after he left to read the Rider’s letter. Even though he had already read it, she wanted some privacy. 

The paper was black as well, but the ink was white. His handwriting was elegant, with clean, even runes. 

He evidently still knew how to write, even with his too-long fingers.

—

My Dearest Friend, 

Words cannot describe the joy in my heart I felt when I saw Snotlout standing at my door, with a letter from you. Though I have been lonely, thinking of my reply to you has made my day go by swiftly. 

As much as it pains me, I will stay away from the village as you suggest. I would never forgive myself if you were hurt on my behalf. 

Dagur’s words hurt, yes, but what truly hurt more was seeing him hurt you and not knowing what to do to help. I chose then to leave, hoping in my absence, his rage would subside. Was it successful? Are you still tormented? What more can I do?

Astrid, does the moon hate the sun for casting light upon its face? Does it hate that it is brought from the shadows and made known to the Earth? So why then would I hold any ill will towards you? You’ve only shown me kindness. You have given me what I asked for, and more. 

We will see each other again, I promise. 

Please tell the others I said hello. 

I miss you too.

Your humble servant, 

The Pale Rider.

[therudepickle]

Well, seems like I get too excited when I start to like someone and I invest too much time thinking about them 😂 sure I’m pretty damn lonely, but I’m content with it. We started to talk, but I think as the title says “feelings not mutual.” She’s such a beautiful person, but we’re far apart. She’s smart, funny, drop-dead -I’ll fight the whole world for you-gorgeous, but she’s also like way younger than I am 🥲 oh well right? I don’t know why she asked for my number honestly, I guess that’s where I’m confused. I mean I dated older women when I was younger too, but I think that’s different. How did I let myself think there could be more? Idiot central on my brain stem.

Shucks!

What I truly miss about a relationship/friendship is spending the time with someone and doing things together, even mundane things like grocery shopping to make sandwiches. I’ve spent most of the last decade being reserved. All the things I got excited to imagine doing with this person.. I gotta just do them myself!

Ideas so far : go hiking (hell if I get stuck in a crevice and die, that’s two birds with one stone, right?) Next, go downtown to paint the legal walls in the arts district. I really wanted to go ice skating or even regular skating, but I do that by myself sometimes anyway. She said, “you should go take a trip somewhere!” Because I have some days off, but it’s more so because it’s my Dad’s birthday and the first of his birthdays since he passed away. I took the days off because my Mom has been crying all week and I’m staying home to get some larger projects done around the house; like painting walls and climbing ladders to clean high-up which makes her happy, but like how happy could that really make her on my Dad’s birthday now that he’s gone? But hey, I’m joining a gym tomorrow, so that’s new I guess.

The real problem I have, my brother being an addict and continuing to relapse every few months. He was high when my Dad died, he was high as I was performing cpr on my Dad.. after we carried him to the floor.. he was high taking my Mom downstairs as she nearly died from her heart breaking (literally.) He was high the last time we saw my Dad to say goodbye after they pronounced him dead.. and he saw me close his eyes with my finger tips. He was high everyday my Mom was in the hospital- and he’s been high all this month and last month. He threw away five months sobriety because some girl moves back here and she (big surprise) gets high too. The most hurtful part is the lies.. and why lie when I already know the truth? I can see it, I can smell it, and god be damned if he doesn’t know that by now. More so it hurts watching him do the same to her. My mom said, “You were high when your Dad died and you’ll be high when I die! Won’t you?!”

She has always been so strong my whole life and it’s been devastating seeing her deteriorate in the last couple years. Honestly, if she’s gone I don’t know what I’d do, my whole life’s purpose has become caring for her and helping with bills, but really with my brother torturing her like this.. I mean, it just all feels so pointless. The last day I was at work, everyone knew I was down and out over something.. but how could I even say any of this to anybody? Why burden anybody with it besides some strangers who happen across a post this long and take the time to torture themselves with reading all of it? Lmao 🤣 (sorry if you made it this far.) Well.. till next time I guess, whenever I’m feeling stuck in between giving up and pushing through.. I’ll keep everyone updated 👍 *cricket chirping intensifies*

[belovedarkness]

04/01/2024

I made this playlist last January 2023. After years of finally deciding to move forward from my broken relationship with Ken, I’ve started praying and hoping for a life partner. Someone I can share my love for Jesus and my random stories with. Last 14th of February 2023, I wrote down a list of my negotiables and non-negotiables. I am really excited to share the love I have inside me and have been earnestly praying for that someone I can have a godly, stable and healhy relationship with. I am healed and ready. In March 2023, when we had our Mt. Pulag hike, I felt the same. Then April 2023 where I celebrated my 25th birthday in El Nido came, my frontal lobe shifted and I realized that I really want to be someone’s wife. I am not for games. I am for marriage. During those months Bryan has been really trying to show his interest in me but I was refusing because I want him to be healed first and to be sure as well. There are other guys showing interests but did not match my list, Bryan didn’t either. But he is my dearest friend. Bryan surprised me on my birthday last year with a cake and I knew that time, I am swayed and slowly removing all my guards down. I knew it but didn’t speak much about it. We started talking in July 2023. I was reading The Alchemist that time. The story Santiago and Fatima inspired me so much, of how Fatima waited for Santiago until he got his dream even if Santiago will choose her she pushed him to do what he wants to do. Isn’t that so selfless and hopeful? If that’s not love, I don’t know what that is called. I’ve been constantly exchanging good morning texts with Bryan during that time. Again, slowly letting my guards down. I was also in a state of isolation and reading Songs of Solomon. My relationship with Jesus became deeper and personal. I am filled with so much love. August came, Bryan asked me if we could start dating. I did not answer right away. I prayed and asked for Godly advice and consents. I gave myself 2 weeks but a part of me knew that I will say yes to it. So there, the courtship started. Bryan’s work is demanding, he is an accountant. I understand his field and the way he didn’t have that much time to talk to me every single day. I did not demand. I waited. After all, he’s the man. He is designed to take the lead in our relationship. So I let him be. Bryan came here in PH for a 5 days vacay. He invited me to his friends’ out of town in Rizal last October 2023 and that’s when everything has been slowly breaking. All of my expectations with my relationship with Bryan has shown me reality. People aren’t perfect. They make mistakes. And I forgive him. I was hurt but I forgive. Then this year, February 2024. I visited Bryan in AU to see the life he had there. If I really wanted to understand why he wants to settle down in that place I should see it myself that’s why I decided to. Even if I don’t know what to expect. I took the risk. AU Trip was amazing but its a bit sad if you’re not with your loved ones. A lot of things happened there and Bryan showed me different kind of love. A love that comes out of friendship. He made the same mistake, I forgave him, again. When we were there we were just so happy. Contented. Not thinking about anything. I didn’t know I could ever love someone again, and this time at my best state. I was able to show Bryan my best self that I wasn’t able to give Ken. But life happens, after I came back here in PH, we then had a hard time again navigating through our LDR set up. Its so hard to miss someone you couldn’t see or touch or just be there. We both tried our best. We had a hard time compromising and communicating our needs. Our level of emotional maturity is different and pride is greater on the other side. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m writing this down today. I just know that after almost 8 months of my courtship with Bryan, I had the best time and wouldn’t even regret anything that happened or how much love I gave him and I want it to stay that way. If we won’t be able to work this out, I won’t force it. I am letting God in control for the both of us.

[dzpenumbra]

7/23/23

Another low-key didn't-really-do-much day. I did a little outlining on my grip tape, but not a ton. My paint brushes are really old. Like... super old. And... I never really took very good care of them, to be honest. I have a favorite brush that has served me really well for detail work, but it's all frayed from over a decade of acrylic buildup in the base. I tried to clean it up a bit, but it didn't work that well.

So... I was left trying to decide whether to commit to doing detail line work in black with a brush that... rarely did what I wanted it to do. It definitely added a new level of challenge. I'm hoping I can get my sleep schedule adjusted a bit more so I can take a trip out to Michael's and get a few new brushes. I just... don't want to take a dedicated trip exclusively for that. I'd like to go to that place nearby that has trails and the rock beach as well, make a whole day out of it. It's just hard to get that all to work when I start my days so late.

I slept in again. I'm really glad to finally be getting such good sleep, it's so insanely overdue. I don't know if it's because I'm cutting back on caffeine... but I've been sleeping a ton the past few days. It kinda sucks because I'm very low energy the rest of the day... and I don't really have much daylight to work with... but it's so important after the 2 week stretch there where I was getting ridiculously little sleep. That shit took a big toll on me that I'm still recovering from.

So yeah, that's... honestly pretty much it. I made more granola, it actually was a nice golden brown color this time, I'll try it in the morning. I have a grocery delivery scheduled for tomorrow. I ordered some stuff off Amazon that I've been putting off for a while. And... that's about it.

I'm definitely... craving social interaction. More substance in life. I love the quiet and the lack of distractions that my current life provides me, but man... I'd really love to just go hiking with someone and talk. I miss that a lot. Just take a day and go climb a mountain, and sit at the top and just shoot the shit.

I'm realizing very clearly how much utility my car offered me. And... it's hard to not be deeply upset with the people who took it away from me. I've been entertaining the idea of getting a motorcycle or something, if for nothing more than it being cheaper and more gas efficient... But I'm worried about winter storage... well... just winter in general, I guess. I don't know, I haven't really thought about this much. I was just sorta going off the thought... having a car would change my life in a pretty radical way. Being able to drive to trails and hiking spots.

I don't know. I have access to this community car thing. I mean, I'm paying for it... I have a yearly subscription to the service. But the last time I got that car and went on that like... 3 hour hike... it cost me $50. And $50 is a lot of money in my brain. Maybe I'm just detached from the current prices of things, because I spend money so rarely and pretty much only on essentials like groceries. I mean, getting dinner delivered for one person was like... $50. I guess it's not that much. Maybe I'm just still stuck in pre-inflation price mentality. Kinda like part of me still thinks a pack of Marb 27's should cost around $5.50/pack? And honestly, I couldn't even guess at their current price... probably over $10. It's just... it's a number just big enough for me to hesitate before going on a trip - like driving to that occult shop the next neighborhood over, or driving to the trails. Big enough to thwart impulse plans, and impulse plans have been my most successful plans so far, because I can get the ball rolling with them before my anxiety gets a chance to creatively dismantle them.

Anyway, I'm kinda hoping to get to bed before the sun comes up. It's already 4:15 so... I don't know how well that's gonna go... but I'd really like to have more daylight to work with so I can actually have a chance at real-world socializing. So... I'm gonna go do that.

[melanccholia]

ONCE AGAIN MY FAMILY IS OUT DOING OUTDOOR SPORTS THINGS. FISHING. KAYAKING. HIKING. AND I AM AT HOME. WATCHING TEENAGE MUTANT TURTLES

[sinnetsins]

JUST FRIENDS

contains: graphic smut, angst, fluff, dom/sub.

______________________________________

I pulled the yellow dress over my head and checked myself in the mirror one last time, today I was seeing Timmy and to be honest I was nervous. He and I have been best friends for years but I've found myself wanting more than that for a while now. I hear my phone buzz on my vanity.

"Hey angel I'm 5 away." His voice ringing through my ears, just hearing him made me wet.

"Okay Timmy, I'll be ready." I smile and hang up the phone.

I'm not sure how I would be able to control myself around him today every little thing he does sets me off, I sigh to myself wondering if he feels the same, but then again if he did I'm sure we would've been something by now.

'I'm outside!'

A text from him glowing on my screen, I grab my purse and make my way to the front of my apartment building, seeing him outside of his vehicle smiling at me. He engulfs me in a warm hug as I squeeze back I feel his nose nuzzle into my hair.

"I've missed you." He says softly, breaking the hug to look at me.

"Timmy it's only been 2 weeks since you last saw me!" I chuckle.

"I know but what can I say I'm needy." He smirks opening the car door for me and jogging around to the driver's side.

We went to the store, got beers, some snacks, and  then went to meet up with a few of our other friends, Nick, Zoe, Sarah, James, and Elise at our spot- an open clearing in a small portion of woods. Once we arrived I greeted everyone there, Sarah finally showed up and with a girl I had never met before.

"Guys this is Chloe!" Sarah introduced the blonde girl to everyone, she gave a small wave, we all introduced ourselves making her feel as welcome as possible.

She pays Timmy extra eye contact once he speaks up to introduce himself, already being flirty with him, I couldn't help but feel jealousy rise in my chest. She was beautiful there was no denying that and by the looks of it Timothee also thought so, returning the prolonged eye contact. I internally scoff and go to grab a beer, Elise coming up next to me.

"What's up? You okay babe?" Elise questions grabbing a beer herself popping the tab open.

"Honestly, I don't know.." I answer honestly taking a big swig of my drink. She grabs my hand and brings me over to the blanket set out on the ground.

"Okay spill." She sternly says.

"I don't know Elise, well I do know, but I don't-" I start to ramble suddenly feeling shy about the topic.

"You know I'm not gonna judge you whatever it is." She tilts her head giving me a small smile.

"It's Timmy, I'm absolutely without a doubt in love with him and have been for a long time. It just kills me because I know he doesn't see me that way and I can't shake the fact I want more with him." I sigh glancing back over at the curly boy, now helping the boys start building a fire for later.

"I think you should tell him sis, you don't even know how he feels you might be surprised. At least then you'll know and he doesn't feel at least something for you he's a dumb bitch." She chuckles taking another swig of her beer.

I smile at her thinking about how I would tell him when the time was right tonight.

_

"Okay never have I ever done it in public." Zoe laughs out, almost everyone takes a drink to that one.

At this point we had switched to vodka and I was definitely feeling it. We were all around the fire, the sun starting to set making the sky a blur of blue, pink and orange.

Of course Timmy and Chloe were sat next to each other, very obviously up each other's ass, it almost made me sick looking at them. Elise squeezed my leg to assure me she was there, a sympathetic look on her face.

The amount of alcohol I've consumed and the feelings swirling around in my head made the scene almost too much to handle.

Everyone was in their own conversations, I grab my cup walking along the hiking trail to a small creek I had never seen before, sitting on a rock by the creek bed.

I remove my shoes dipping my feet in, watching the water flow across my toes, getting into my own thoughts.

How could I tell him how I feel now? He hasn't left Chloe alone since she got here, of course he would want her, she was absolutely stunning, and I'm just..me- the best friend since 7th grade.

I feel tears swelling up in my eyes, the insecurities clouding my inner thoughts, not being able to help the droplets falling from my eyes rapidly.

Trying to control my little sobs, the sound of someone walking up behind me interrupts.

I turn to see him coming up to me.

"What's wrong my angel?" A look of worry spread across his face as he tries to grab your hands, you let out a low chuckle pulling your hands from his grip looking away.

"Nothing Timothée, what do you want?" You say more dryly than intended. He looks taken back, you never really use his full name.

"What the fuck is your problem? You've had an attitude since we got here." He has a slight tone in his voice.

I get up drinking the rest of the vodka in the cup, sitting it on the rock to put my shoes back on.

"Y/n." He steps closer to me with pleading eyes.

"Take me home." I say quietly, trying not to make it obvious the tears were running again.

I grab my cup walking past him back to the group gathering my things, saying bye to everyone as does Timmy while I wait for him by his car.

I could only look out the window the whole ride, catching him steal glances from the corner of my eye.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong now?" He looks over at me, I stay silent, the last cup you had now hitting you like a truck your emotions built up again.

"You wanna know what my issue is? You are Timothée." I spat getting out of his car making my way to the front door of the building, he follows closely behind you.

"What the fuck could I have possibly done y/n!" He steps in front of me blocking the door to my apartment.

I look into his eyes, tears stinging my eyes daring to fall.

"Do you really not see? Are you that blind to the fact I am hopelessly in love with you and have been since we met?" I choke out. All he can do is stare at you mouth agape.

"Of course you are, watching you with other girls- watching you not love me back is so fucking heartbreaking Timothée. I am so tired of feeling this way."

You were finally unraveling before him. Small sobs escaping you as you open your door, you go to close it but he stops it walking in and closing it behind him, "Y/n-" He grabs your wrist "Please don't. Just go." You whisper not able to look at him, tears still streaming down your face, "Look at me." He says sternly, turning your face to his.

"I've been waiting to hear you say that since 7th grade." He cups my face, wiping the tears fallen, all I can do is just look at him.

"You have no idea how in love with you I am y/n." He backs me against the wall, his thumb running across my lips, eyes boring into mine.

"What took you so fucking long?" He whispers ghosting his lips over mine, I let out a small sigh and he closes the gap between us.

I wrap my arms around his neck and he grips the back of my head deepening the kiss, he bites my bottom lip softly, and I run my tongue across his slipping it into his mouth.

His hands make their way down my body snaking under your dress, he kisses my neck now groping both of your breasts, the sudden contact making you moan his name softly.

"I've dreamed about what you sound like." He lowly growls in your ear nibbling your lobe, twisting your nipples with his fingers.

"Fuck." I breathe out now fully aware of how bad my heat was tingling for him.

He moves from my breasts to my soaking folds, massaging my clit through my lace panties. I throw my head back stifling my moans trying not to seem so needy for his touch.

"Do you want me to touch you y/n?" He's hovering over my lips once again.

"Oh god, please-" It comes out as more of a desperate whisper.

He brings his middle and ring finger up to my mouth, urging me to suck on them never breaking eye contact. With his other hand he pulls my panties down leaving them around my ankles, he removes his fingers from my mouth running the wet digits over my bud of nerves- my breath hitching.

He gently slides one finger in making you shiver with pleasure.

"You're so fucking wet for me." He adds another finger, hooking them inside of me rapidly, rubbing my clit with his thumb making the moans leave me loudly.

"Oh my god please don't stop- uhh" You moan into his ear gripping his shirt tightly, closing your eyes.

He brings a hand up to your neck squeezing lightly, you feel your walls tighten around his long fingers and butterflies in your stomach.

"Look at me baby." He pushes deeper into my abyss as I release onto his fingers looking him in the eyes.

He picks me up bringing me to the bedroom laying me down gently, undressing you leaving my body completely bare.

Suddenly a wave of self conscious washes over me and I cover myself.

He hovers over me moving the hair from my face.

"You are so beautiful mon amour, you don't need to hide from me." He leans down kissing my neck.

I begin undressing him, palming his erection through his boxers.

"Fuck me." He hums as I discard his last piece of clothing, now fully jerking him off. I get brave and kiss down his chest all the way to his tip, licking around the tip and he moans uncontrollably grabbing a fistful of hair, I look up at him.

"I want you to fuck my pretty little mouth." I say as innocently as possible causing him to let out a breathy sigh.

I get on my knees as he stands up still holding my hair. I continue sucking the tip as he guides my head further and further down his thick length making me look him in the eyes.

"Fuck you're so beautiful like that." He moans out thrusting into the back of my throat making me gag.

"Take it all baby, you can do it. Be a good girl for me." He pants out throat fucking me.

I hold your breath trying not to gag as much and he pulls out, a thick string of saliva connecting my mouth to him. I try to catch my breath- a couple tears falling from my eyes.

He lays me back down on the bed spreading my legs, getting in between.

"If I'm cumming anywhere, it's gonna be in that pretty little pussy." He lines himself up with my throbbing entrance, rubbing the head against the soaking folds, purposely teasing me.

"Please Timmy." I whimper out unable to contain how bad I need him.

"Beg for it." He rubs my clit with his tip staring intently.

"I need you inside my tight little pussy-" I moan out, "Please fuck me baby, I want you to fill me up." I.huff out into his ear earning a moan from him.

He slowly enters my folds making me gasp from how he was stretching me out, definitely unaware he was hung like this. I grip at his back only able to release small squeaks as he slowly thrusts into me, caressing my body as he does so.

"God you're so fucking tight y/n." He moans out gradually picking up the pace.

I'm a moaning mess underneath him as he grips the back of my knee pulling one leg up to his chest, hitting that glorious spot.

"Fuck me right there Timothée- oh my god you feel so good." You almost scream moaning uncontrollably, "You're so fucking big."

He repositions himself to ram into me harder than before, rubbing my clit with his thumb, my legs twitch about and that same butterfly feeling starts building up in the pit of my stomach.

"Jouis por moi." (Come for me) He thrusts harder and faster.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum." I yell out digging my nails into his back, eyes rolling back.

"You look at me when you cum, do you hear me?" He grabs my chin forcing me to gaze into his eyes.

His mouth agape moans slipping out with every pump. I finally reach my high screaming his name, he continues rubbing my clit and making my legs convulse from the over stimulation. I squirt on him sending him over the edge as he fills my insides with his hot sticky cum moaning out my name.

He collapses on top of me breathing hard, I the same.

"You're all mine now." He growls kissing me passionately.

"You're all I'll ever need." I cup his face lovingly.

[mike-wachowski]

happy supercorptober, day 4: couch

The couch is an ugly, dirty, grotesque thing. It's a shade of orange Lena had once compared to a rotting pumpkin found on someone's porch, long forgotten after Halloween. It’s missing a cushion, and she’s pretty sure a raccoon has tunnelled inside it, tearing up the corner and throwing cotton everywhere. Sometimes when she sits, she swears she hears a squeak. 

For some reason, Kara loves it. 

When she first saw it on the street, walking home after school, she ran all the rest of the way home to steal the keys to Jeremiah’s truck, coercing Alex to join her along the way. She pulled up to the curb beside it, and together she and Alex hauled the heavy thing into the truck’s bed and strapped it down with some loose rope they’d grabbed from the garage. 

The couch’s previous owner, or at least Kara assumed, called out to them as Alex tightened the final knot over the old piece of furniture. 

“You sure you want to take that?” The woman shouted out from where she was watering a single tiny rosebush by her porch. “The old thing is junk. We were hoping large item pickup would get it, not some kids.” 

Kara smiled despite the woman’s lack of enthusiasm. “I can pay you for it if you like!” 

The woman shook her head, turning back to her wilting roses. “You’re doing me a favor just getting it out of my sight.” 

Clambering back into the truck after double checking the ropes, Alex turned to Kara with a familiar look. Skeptical and scrutinizing. “She’s right, you know,” Alex had said, tapping a finger on the steering wheel as she drove back towards their house. “It’s a piece of junk. Mom’s never gonna let you take it inside.” 

“I don’t need to bring it inside,” Kara hummed as she watched the neighborhood pass by. “I know the perfect place for it.” 

Kara first met Lena Luthor at a run-down playground inside an old abandoned military base up the hill in her neighborhood. Kara had placed six plastic bottles equidistant from each other up on the fence around the jungle gym, and was taking shots at them with some pebbles she had grabbed during the hike up here. On her third bottle’s first throw she overswings, and the pebble sails past the fence and through a thicket of bushes, and suddenly Kara hears a surprised yelp of pain and a loud “What the fuck?” 

She drops her pebbles and rushes towards the bushes, glancing around them to find a girl sitting in the dirt. Kara takes inventory: dark hair, private school uniform, textbook in her lap, clutching her forehead and wincing in pain. Oops. 

“Hello?” Kara starts, voice weak from her extended silence all day. Other than with Alex and Eliza at breakfast, this is the first time she’s talked in hours. “Did you, um… did you see a rock fly through here just now?” 

The girl looks up at her with anger written all over her face. “Did I see a-did you throw that rock at me?” 

“Oh, no,” Kara immediately chokes out. “I mean, yes I threw it, but I didn’t throw it at you, I didn’t mean to hit you-”

The girl raises a hand to stop her, commanding more force than Kara thought was possible for a person her age. She shuts up quickly. 

“It’s fine,” the girl mutters, pulling her hand back to reveal a welt on her forehead that makes Kara feel less than fine about the situation. “Honestly, I'm used to it,” she scoffs, and that's enough to push Kara over the edge. 

“I’m sorry!” she blurts out. “I’m sorry. You should come study with me. I mean, I'm not studying, I've been throwing rocks at bottles because I had a really bad day at school. You don't care about that. Um, I like to hang out at the old playground right there, and there’s some picnic tables you can study at so you don't have to sit in the dirt. There’s also a couch. My sister Alex helped me bring it up last week.” 

The girl stares at her with widening eyes, and for a moment Kara thinks she might just get up and leave, but then she does something that surprsises Kara entirely: she giggles. “Wow,” she whispers through her light laughter. “You really can ramble, huh?”

Kara is speechless. Usually people make fun of her inability to stop talking sometimes, the way she’ll keep going until she’s spoken herself into a hole. But this person likes it, her laughter didn’t seem malicious or teasing at all- just genuinely, amazingly happy. 

“I’m sorry I laughed,” she says, probably in reaction to the clear shock on Kara’s face. “It’s just, I think that's the most anyone’s talked to me in weeks.” 

“That’s the most I’ve talked all day,” Kara realizes. She sticks her hand out to the girl. “My name’s Kara.”

“Hi Kara,” the girl responds, using Kara’s outstretched hand to pull herself to her feet. “I’m Lena.”

Lena. Lena. Lena.

Kara falls for her right then and there. 

-

“I can’t believe this couch has lasted over a year.” 

Kara looks over at Lena, who’s sitting on one of the last remaining cushions next to her, tucked under Kara’s arm as they face the sunset. Lena had said it so quietly, she almost didn't hear it, but the sly smile Kara catches as she finishes her sentence is proof enough that she didn’t imagine it. She hums in consideration, before asking, “What makes you say that?”

“I thought the possums would have turned it into a housing complex by now,” Lena laughs. “Or we’d show up and find one of the graffiti artists had taken it home. Or Alex would have made you throw it out by now.” 

Kara smiles at that last one. “Not for lack of trying on her part, you know.”

“Oh, I remember,” Lena squeezes Kara’s arm gently. “Remember when we showed up and Alex was trying to drag it out of here? She thought it was starting to smell, but it was-”

“-the old sandwich I had stashed under there a month ago.” Kara finishes with Lena, the two of them dissolving into a fit of laughter at the memory. When the laughter fades and they both turn to face one another, eyes locking, Lena asks her something. 

“Kara, why do you like this couch so much?” She asks, rubbing an open hand over the rough, worn, canvas upholstery. “You saw a dirty, beat-up couch on the street and decided you needed it?”

Kara looks away, back towards the setting sun, which is now casting a warm orange glow not dissimilar to the color of the couch they’re currently sitting on. 

“I can give you a real answer and a funny answer to that, I guess.” 

“Start with the real one, dear,” Lena tells her, reaching over to hold Kara’s hand. 

“Well,” Kara starts. “It’s kinda silly, but I just saw it and… the people who had it before didn’t want it. They thought it was junk. Back then, I guess I thought they were giving up on it.” Kara shakes her head, laughing to herself. “I know it’s silly. It’s just a couch. But I wanted to give it a second chance.” 

Lena’s eyes shine with unspoken words that Kara understands better than anyone. She runs her thumb over Kara’s, and Kara knows she understands too.

“And the funny answer?” 

Kara grins wide. “We had our first kiss on this couch.” 

Lena pulls back an inch, eyebrows furrowing. “First kiss? Kara, we’ve never even…”

“Lena,” Kara whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh- oh,” Lena stammers. “Yes, please.” 

Kara lunges forward across the couch and kisses her. 

[tuulikannel]

Tuuli's adventures on Mt. Hiei, once upon a time (with pics!)

Storytime! This happened on Feb 2018 when I was on student exchange in Kyoto. I’m half wondering if I even want to tell you all about this, but… heh, it’s kind of a funny story, anyway. ^^ It came to my mind when jackiewepps talked about missing the last train in Japan.

Anyway, I spent half a year living basically at the root of Mt. Hiei, the holy mountain of Kyoto, and I always planned hiking it. Somehow it just didn’t happen, and then I had less than a week left in Japan. All days were booked except one, and on the night before I checked the weather forecast which was quite nice, and decided that it’s now or never. So I googled a while about stuff, figuring from where the path starts etc. The plan was climb up there, check out the temples & the summit, and then take the cable car back down.

Off I went then! This pic is taken from very close to where I lived, like I said, Hieizan was close by.

I took the Kirara-oka trail. (Kirara! Hazama, is that you?) Luckily I’d read online that the first part was hardest, or I might have been somewhat discouraged. There were also times when the path (if it can be called that) divided and I wasn’t sure which way to go. I always took the one that seemed to be going (more) upward, and apparently that was the right decision.

Somewhere along the way I came across this. It was there in the middle of the mountain, all by itself. I don’t know who/what that is, but I had a little pause there, offered some of my water, and said that I’m just an idiot gaijin who isn’t sure what she’s doing, so I’d appreciate all help on this hike, to not get lost…

Some random pics I took on the way

Well, I found the summit without trouble. By then it had gotten pretty cloudy. You can see Lake Biwa from there, on the opposite side from Kyoto, and I sort of did see it, but it isn’t visible in any of the pics I took. Anyway, before I went to the summit I walked around the temple areas. And sorry these statues with their knitted hats were just too cute!

Random pics from the temple area

Anyway, then it was finally time to get down. I started heading to the cable car… only to find out that it doesn’t operate in winter. (This was at the very end of February, it would have started running in March. >_>) There was a bus stop on the summit. I went there… and the last bus had gone 15 min earlier, at half past 4 pm.

okay. So I am there at a mountain top with no transport down, and it’d start getting dark in one hour - and when it gets dark, it gets dark. It had taken me closer to two hours to get up there, but of course, I had been taking my time, and going down might be easier than going up. Still, I couldn’t be sure I’d get down before dark.

There were a few cars in the parking lot at the summit. As I stood there, pondering about my options (should I got to knock on the temple doors to ask for shelter for a tired pilgrim XD) I noticed that there was a man sitting in one of them, and went to ask him if there was any other way to get down. (There was, of course, the motor road, but it had signs to forbid pedestrians.)

Anyway, he confirmed what I already knew, no buses or anything this “late” during winter. And then he offered me a ride (which I had kind of been hoping). I had to wait a short while, as he was someone working in the area and was waiting for his coworkers before he could leave, but honestly, that was fine for me! The funniest part? He could have been literally from anywhere around the mountain, but he lived in the same part of Kyoto where my dorm was. At first I was wondering if he was just saying so, but for one thing, he knew exactly where the dorm was, and after he dropped me off, I saw him turn into a residential area from where you can’t really get anywhere.

Huh. Thankfully, back then, after having spent half a year in Japan, I actually could speak some Japanese (unlike now). And, uh, I guess I really should offer that stone thing on the mountain my thanks for making it down safely… ^^;;

But honestly, this is all kinds of ridiculous. I’m someone who always plans things very carefully. Back in the days with no internet on the phone (yep, I’m old enough to remember that XD) I literally drew myself maps and wrote down the bus timetables and routes when I just did a daytrip to another town here in Finland. And then I go to climb a freaking mountain in Japan without checking how to get down from there? Unbelievable. XD

[wonlouvre]

hello! i see your requests are open again 😌 can i request jeonghan x reader, enemies to lovers kinda thing maybe where they have the same friends but jeonghan & reader always clash etc etc fluff at the end idk

i know you’ll come up with something amazing as always, do what you want with it 😘🥰💗

balance | y. jh. 

pairing: jeonghan x reader genre: enemies to lovers (kind of), fluff warnings: heights, ski mountain mechanical malfunctions (you know, dangling in the air kind of thing)  word count: 1.5k (i got carried away, im sorry)

💌: thank you so much for requesting!!! this was honestly fun to write although there was little to none banter, i’m so sorry :’( thank you for trusting me! i hope you like it <3 i will try to post at least two drabbles/requests per week :)

To you, Yoon Jeonghan was the type of person that looked like he would trample all over your principles in life. It’s a little dramatic of you but he can’t blame you for thinking so. He’s cocky, annoying and full of shit. The two of you stepped off on the wrong foot when he thought it was funny to pour sparkling water on your instant noodles as a prank during one of the traditional ski trips your group of friends always hold.

Soonyoung introduced him on what was supposed to be the best trip of your life only to get ruined when he made fun of you. Although technically speaking, your cup wasn’t the only victim of his shenanigan because the rest of your friends complained and threw it at the perpetrator before they could even finish eating. But you were hungry and stubborn, so you didn’t let it go. 

Ever since then, despite not confronting him, Jeonghan’s energy and wholebeing never clicked with yours. You barely speak a word to him and you rarely hang out with him, unlike with every single one of your friends. He hasn’t noticed and even if he did, you’re sure he could care less. Which is fine by you. The instant noodle prank is history and now that this year’s ski trip will be your third with him, you have just gotten used to ignoring his existence. 

“Jeonghan’s staring at you,” Seungcheol says, startling you. 

Your eyes throw daggers at him, not because he startled you, but because of what he said. 

The tall man nudges your shoulder with his. “I’m not lying. Give him a glance and then you’ll see.”

To set the record straight, you don’t have a grudge on Jeonghan for who he is. It’s more of what he does that gives a bad impression on you. Aside from the noodle incident, you noticed how much he takes pride in teasing and playing with the gullible younger ones and you hate him for that. It’s a good laugh every once in a while but it can hurt feelings at times and you don’t want that. He also likes to disagree and debate with everyone (you’re just glad you haven’t been a victim yet). When everyone else says yes, he’ll boldly say no. That’s how moronic he is to be friends with. 

Of course you acknowledge his good deeds. Whether you like to admit it or not, Jeonghan is a great friend. He is a beacon of strength among you knowing that he’s one of the oldest in the group. He knows where and when to have fun. He knows when to be there for anyone who needs him. He’s supportive. He’s loving. He’s more than okay. 

You’re just turning a blind eye because you’re still petty. 

It has come to your attention that apparently, Jeonghan has been harboring a crush on you. It’s a stupid rumor and you choose to ignore it because why. Why would he have a crush on you? You try confirming if it’s true by looking at him and observing his actions whenever he’s not paying attention. But to no avail, nothing special stood out.

In fact, it seems like all the staring and observation made you develop a crush on him. Now that’s even more annoying. 

You roll your eyes at Seungcheol’s nonsense and walk away from him to go to Jeongyeon who’s currently checking in everyone to the hotel. You might as well help her register everyone to all the activities you will be participating in. 

“Collect their IDs,” she orders without looking up from the form she’s writing on. “And tell them to fall in line so they can sign the consent form.”

“Told you we should have filled out the online form before getting here,” your complaint doesn’t go unheard by your friend who only glares at you, scaring you to immediately obey her instructions.

“IDs please,” you ask with your hand out and your friends happily complied as they chatted through the waiting time. You walk around to make sure you have everyone’s and as you double check, one last ID was missing. 

“You didn’t forget about me, did you?”

The devil himself, Yoon Jeonghan.

You take a deep deep breath before turning around and face the handsome face you’ve been sick of. Wait, did you just call him handsome?! 

Jeonghan flashes his signature smirk while pulling his wallet out from his pocket, picking one of the many cards inside it to hand to you. His gloveless fingers grazes yours and it concerns you why it made your heart skip a beat. You avoid his gaze and everything else about him and run back to Jeongyeon who’s the one asking for these in the first place. 

You heard his low chuckle and you wish you could wipe off his annoying grin with your fist. 

Moving on from what happened in the early afternoon, the rest of the day was pleasant enough for you and your friends to continue. Everyone had lunch at the local restaurant first before doing the group activities. It’s a good thing none of you are afraid of heights (except for Dokyeom, but he manages). Soonyoung leading everyone to hike the safe side of the snow covered mountain wasn’t a problem for him. 

After the quick mountain hike, you all scattered to have fun and decided to meet up for dinner in the evening. You, Jeongyeon, Dokyeom and much to your dismay, Jeonghan all went up to snowboard. 

The lift was supposed to carry the four of you up to the starting point before your adrenaline descend, but Dokyeom suddenly felt a wave of fear of heights and needed to calm down for a few minutes. He tells you to go on ahead and you did. You just didn’t expect Jeonghan to be accompanying you instead of Jeongyeon. 

You hide your disappointment and bewilderment as you make yourself comfortable. It’s awkward but it doesn’t matter. You’re just going to keep quiet and avoid looking Jeonghan’s way. This ride will probably not be a good ten minutes, right?

Jeonghan holds onto his snowboard while you place yours on the floor. A barrier of some sort to distance yourself from him. Your eyes are glued to your feet, watching them move from side to side. You also distract yourself from admiring the view outside the window, but it’s hard when you can feel his eyes burning holes on the back of your head. 

“Y/N.”

You hate it. You hate it. You hate it. 

Why does your name sound so melodic coming from his mouth?

You turn your head and raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. 

But the lift doesn’t let him because it suddenly stops mid-air, echoes of metals clanking and brakes screeching following suit. The abrupt stop causes the lift to shake a little, making you hold onto the metal bars out of fear. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a mechanical malfunction of the lifts and our engineers are repairing it now at this moment. We apologize for the inconvenience and fear that this has caused. We request everyone to remain calm and seated…”

The announcement falls deaf to your ears because all you hear is ringing. You’re not afraid of heights at all. But you have never experienced an incident like this before. You’ve heard and read about it and not all of them ended well. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan’s voice snaps you out of your dilemma. 

You blink away your tears and clutch your chest to calm your heart that’s beating faster and faster. 

“Y/N?” Jeonghan calls for you again, but this time he’s reaching his hand out. “You’ll be fine. Here, take my hand.”

Jeonghan probably noticed the panic in your eyes. So, after throwing away your doubts outside the window, you carefully move a little closer to him but not beside him as you don’t want to ruin the balance of the lift. You unclench your fist and finally take hold of his waiting hand. 

Jeonghan’s warm palm and genuine smile calms you down. Your heartbeat slows down and your breathing goes back to normal. Your eyebrows furrow in both fear and embarrassment. You question the universe how and why did this have to happen. 

“Hey, don’t cry.”

“I’m not!” 

Jeonghan giggles at your outburst and you don’t know if that’s music to your ears or if it just makes you want to punch his handsome face more. 

“I like you Y/N,” he suddenly confesses and you grimace. 

“I like you too,” you confess back, tightly gripping his hand. “But now is not the time, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan bites back a smile that says he’s in love and just gently caresses your hand. It’s unbelievable how the opportunity arose itself right at this moment, but it was now or never for him. He’d explain how much he likes you in detail later. For now, he’s okay with this. 

“But, later though?”

“Yes, now shut up before I throw you out first.”

[buttsmasher]

Caught

[Here's the photo that inspired this]

Warnings/Tags: Straight to Gay, Roommates, Face Farting, Willing Victim, Alpha Male, Name Calling

You’ve had your fair share of roommates in the past five years, but Alberto was the only one that ever had you questioning your sexuality. There was just something about him that radiated man. Like being in his presence was addicting in a way you’ve never experienced. You’ve never had a friend or roommate that you just had to be around. Hell, you haven’t admitted this outloud, but you broke up with your last girlfriend because it was interfering with your time with Alberto. It’s strange.

You’ve never once thought about a man in a sexual way before, but you know deep down that if Alberto asked you’d probably get down on your knees to suck his cock. Just thinking about it is giving you a stiffy. What’s worse is that you get the urges when he’s getting back from the gym or from running around the neighborhood. His smell is intoxicating, which should gross you out, but you’re curious. You kind of want to know what it's like to lick the sweat off his hairy chest. 

You shutter as you reach a hand down to adjust your dick. 

Honestly, you have nothing wrong with gay people or anything. But you’re not gay, there’s no way. You’ve always been into chicks. Alberto on the other hand, seems to be a bit of a fag basher. He definitely has made it known that he knows he’s superior than the fags at the gym (his words). Which is definitely keeping you from trying to make a move on him. Instead you’ve taken it upon yourself to steal his sweaty boxer briefs.

Which is a weird development in all of this. You were content with taking quiet sniffs whenever he was near you, usually pretending you had a runny nose. But now, you’re getting off on his boxer briefs. And you can’t pick if you want to sniff his musky pouch or his ass sweat, which, woof. His ass was rank. 

You always assumed it probably was. You’re not going to deny that your shower routine doesn’t always include washing your ass. But it smelled like Alberto had gone a week without washing his. Somehow that made it all the more pleasurable for you. 

So there you are, sitting on the floor of the living room. Watching Netflix and sniffing on his gross boxer briefs. Alberto shouldn’t be back home for at least another two hours, he always works till 3:00 on Tuesdays. Your hand is in your sweatpants idly stroking your hard cock. Your mind is running through several different scenarios of you getting on your knees for him, or him forcing you to sniff his sweaty armpits. 

“Fucking knew it.”

Your eyes fly open as you see Alberto standing in the entrance of the living room.

“Are those my Jockey’s?” 

You pull the boxer briefs away from your face as you stare in horror. 

“I thought it was weird my undies were disappearing and then reappearing a week later. I should’ve known you were a fag.”

“Look dude, I can totally explain.” You panic.

“Nothing to explain. You just like huffing and getting off to my swamp ass.” 

“It’s not like that.” You try to defend. “I’m straight.”

Alberto laughs. “Yeah, sure you are. So, if I pull my jeans down right now, you wouldn’t crawl over to me and try to put your face in my ass.” You freeze as your mind short circuits. “Don’t put too much thought into it fag. You crave a real man, and here I am.”

“I-I” You struggle to get a thought out.

“Shh, don’t speak.” Alberto pulls his jeans down. “Instead put your face in my sweaty ass.” You can't take your eyes off his hairy ass. You bite your lip, this has to be a trap. “You’ve got ten seconds before I put it away.” Without thinking you jump over to him and plant your face in his crack. “There you go, where a good fag belongs.”

You take the opportunity to sniff up and down his crack. Like you thought, his scent is overwhelming and everything you’ve ever wanted. Which you wouldn’t have thought a year ago. But this is perfect. 

“I know what you fags want. You want a real man to take control and tell you what you want. Like how I know, you want this.”

PFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTFFFPRPPRFF

The fart hits you like a freight train. It smells of rotten eggs, however you can’t seem to pull away. Instead you’re sniffing just as hard as you were before.

“See! Fags love this ass. You’re no exception.” 

PFFFFFF

A short airy fart blows across your face and you move your nose so it’s right against his hole. You take a deep whiff and moan against his ass. More of the rotten eggs, but this time a hint of something else.

“Can you tell what I had for lunch?” You shake your head no. “How about now?” He hikes his leg up slightly.

PFFFFFBBRBRBRBFFFFFBBRFFFFFFTTT

Gods it’s intoxicating being under his manly ass. There’s no way you can tell what he ate because you’re too preoccupied with getting his tainted air into your lungs. 

Alberto sighs above you. “Jeez, you fags are so dumb.” 

PFFFFFBBRRFF

“Open your fucking mouth.” You do as he says, making sure your mouth is open against his funky smelling hole.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

The fart echoes in your mouth making Alberto laugh. It makes you cough and gag as the taste burns down your throat. You are about to pull away when Alberto moves his hand to keep you in place. 

“This is what you want, remember?” And he's right this is what you want. You stay put as he keeps loading your mouth up with farts.

PFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFTT PFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

Another two of his loud farts go down your throat.

“My ass is your god fag.” 

PFFFFFFFFFTTTT

He finally lets you go so you can pull away. You face away from him as you hunch over to cough. The farts were way too much for you and your face feels hot. 

“If you want to get close to my ass, you do as I say. Is that clear fag?” He says gruffly. You can only nod your head yes as you try catching your breath. “Go do my laundry and I’ll let you jack off while you huff on my ass.”

You get up off the ground and avoid eye contact as you walk to his room. 

“And I swear to fucking god, if a pair of my Jockeys are missing I’ll make you regret it!” 

You gulp, knowing that he means the threat. Besides you’re a good fag after all, and you’ll listen to a real man.

[santigarcia]

Bot 🤖

Human Touch Part One

a nathan bateman x f!reader fic~

word count: 3.3k

rating: T - nudity (non sexual), mentions of masturbation

summary: After a wrong turn on a hike, you find yourself on Nathan’s property and joining him for dinner. 

a/n: ahhh this is part 1 of 10 of this series! i cannot wait to share it all with you!! remember these will be posted at 9 CST. check here for the schedule so you won’t miss one!! thank you to @punkpascal for encouraging this and listening to me yell nonstop! and thank you to @sergeantkane for your support and for making the moodboards for this series!! 

You only agree to this because of the view. Not for any other reasons. No. No. Certainly not.

Your cousin owns a timeshare in Norway for her work. And she invites you to come up for a few weeks. You’re in desperate need to get out. She won’t even be there half the time, which is even better. You love your cousin but you’re ready for some quiet. Some space. The fresh air. And you’ve seen photographs, the mountains outside her door look beautiful.

Those are enough reasons for anyone to go.

But it’s when you find out who her ‘neighbor’ is that has you chomping at the bit to go.

The term neighbor is a loose term, the neighbor in question lives two hours in a different direction. It’s a secluded private area. But it still gives you some strange hope you might see him.

“I’ve only seen him once,” you remember your cousin telling you. She wasn’t that impressed, but you – you’re dying to see him.

Nathan Bateman, the multi-billionaire CEO, and creator of Bluebook. He’s a celebrity crush of yours. Half the reason you have a Bluebook phone in your pocket is because of him.

There’s something about him. You’ve followed his career quietly, but more than anything you think he’s handsome. Gorgeous even.

He’s a hot topic for gossip since he remains in seclusion, working on his mysterious projects. To be that close to him sends a thrill down your spine. And he’s all you can think about on the plane ride over.

Your cousin picks you up at the airport and you spend the next few days hanging out with her and relaxing. She leaves on the third day and you spend most of it reading that book you’ve been meaning to finish.

As you sit near the window, you can’t help but admire the mountains. The lush greens of the field at the foot of it, the rich white snow. The crisp air feels good to you, even if it gives you chills.

You decide that you want to go hiking. Your cousin mentioned there are several easy trails and you think you can figure them out.

You get to packing that night. You shove your backpack with things you think you’ll need. You don’t plan on being gone long, so just some essentials for the hike.

The next morning is a lovely one, that mountain air is crisp, and it fills your lungs. You feel rejuvenated. The trails are easy to follow and you walk for hours. You stop to rest every so often and keep hydrated and eat.

You have every intention of turning back when it begins to rain. Hard. Within minutes you’re soaked to the bone. It’s freezing and if you don’t get warm you worry you’ll get sick. You try not to panic, but the rain is coming down so hard you can’t see the trail.

Somehow you take a turn and find yourself going down a decline. Maybe you’re near the trails edge.

The rain continues to pour, but through it you see lights of what looks like a house. Shivering, you make the long walk to this place. It’s your port in the storm.

It’s not your cousin’s house, and you don’t remember seeing this one on the way in. You bang loudly on the front door, hoping someone will hear you over the rain. The house looks huge.

“Hello?” you bang on the door; you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You’re so cold. “Is anyone home?”

After a few moments, the door is opened. And you’re not sure who is more surprised. You or the one and only Nathan Bateman standing across from you.

“It’s you,” you gasp, shivering violently from the cold. “Nathan!”

He blinks, his eyebrow ticks up in bewilderment.

“How the hell did you even get out here? Are you okay? Yeah, come in. Shit, you’re freezing. Umm… yeah. That’s me.”

He opens the door wider so you can come inside. The warmth hits you like a wave, and it almost hurts. You haven’t stopped shaking. And now you’re trembling for any entirely different reason.

“I was hiking, and it started raining and I got lost and…” your teeth are chattering. And Nathan looks confused but concerned.

“This is a hell of a way to get introduced, but-“ he pauses for a beat. “We need to get you out of those clothes. You’re gonna get sick.”

You follow him in this maze of a house, and he takes you to a large open bathroom. He turns on the shower and you take a step towards it, but he stops you.

“This is for the steam, you need to get warm slower, you’ll go into shock.”

You’ve heard about this, and you know he’s right. One of the best ways to prevent hypothermia is warming the body through skin to skin contact and body heat.

“Look, shit, I know this isn’t ideal,” he snorts, “but you need to get naked. I won’t look.” He smiles softly and you feel sick. Maybe it’s the hypothermia.

You turn your back to him and begin to awkwardly peel off your clothes. You’ve never felt so embarrassed in your life. He’s turned the opposite direction and isn’t saying anything. You almost wish he would.

“Ok,” you tell him. You’ve turned back around with your arms covering your chest. He’s taken off his shirt, and he’s quick to wrap you up tight in his arms before you can think too much.

His bare chest is warm. His arms squeeze you tight and he rubs your back. His beard tickles your ear, and you feel all of him all at once. It’s making your head spin. Is this? Is this how you’re meeting him?

“I’m Nathan,” he chuckles softly, “but it seems you already knew that.”

You tell him your name, and he chuckles again. “Interesting meeting huh? Story to tell the grandkids.”

That gets a soft laugh from you, and you can feel him physically relax. The awkward tension has been cut.

“You’re feeling warmer now, less shivering.” He states this as if you don’t know, but it’s impossible not to shudder while naked in his arms. He seems to pick up on this, because of the look he gives you when your bodies pull apart. “You okay?” he looks at you, his eyebrow up again.

Tears well up in your eyes and you can see a look of slight panic cross his face.

“No,” he whispers, “No, hey sweetheart, it’s ok. No need to be embarrassed ok? Do you need me to call someone for you?”

“There’s no one to call,” you sniffle out. “I’m staying with my cousin at her place, but she’s out of town.”

“Do you- you wanna stay here tonight? Get warm? We can figure out shit tomorrow.”

“I’m not an inconvenience, am I?”

“Not even a little. You’re the first person I’ve seen in… months. And… it’s way too cold out there. You’re safer here. Just as long as you’re not a serial killer or somethin’… you can stay.” He gives you a little smile, and hands you a towel to wrap yourself in.

”Definitely not a serial killer. I killed a spider last week and I screamed.”

He chuckles while he dries off his chest and pulls his Henley back on.

“Is it just you in this house?” you ask trying to keep the subject off your nudity.

“Yeah, just me. It’s… yeah, it’s a little lonely. But it’s the ideal working environment. No distractions. No noise. But sometimes, it’s too quiet. Listen, hey we can talk later. You should get in the shower, get warmed up ok? Don’t turn the water up too hot alright? I’ll have my housekeeper set aside some dry clothes for you.”

He exits quietly closing the door behind you with a soft click. Once he’s gone, you drop the towel and step into the warm spray of the nicest shower you’ve ever seen.

You try to process what just happened, and you decide this must be a sign or a dream.

At one point there’s a soft knock on the door and you briefly see a woman set a stack of clothes on the counter. She exits as quickly as she arrived.

You wonder why he’d said he’d not seen another person in months when there she was.

After you dry off, you reach for the stack of dry clothes which you assume are his. There’s a soft pair of sweatpants and a warm Henley that looks like the one he was wearing. They smell fresh and clean, and you pull them on eager to not be naked in this house anymore.

You step out of the bathroom and no sooner do you step foot into the hall do you see his face.

“You don’t have any kind of electronic device on you, do you? Like your phone? Just until you leave, for security purposes. It’s just a precaution.”

“You scared me!” you laugh and touch your chest. “And I do, in my backpack. Which I don’t remember where-“

“It’s in the dining room, I’ll show you.”

Once again you follow Nathan through this maze. Your backpack is sitting on the table just as he said. The fabric is soaked, and you have little hope anything is dry on the inside. There’s a neatly folded towel next to the backpack and you spread it out to take out the contents of said pack.

Your phone is in there, and it looks dead. Soaked from the water.

“I can fix that,” he tells you and extends his hand for the phone. You hand it to him, and he pockets it.

After your phone is out, you dump the backpack onto the towel and all your stuff spills out. A clean shirt, a small first aid kit, a phone charger (just in case), and to your horror – a forgotten vibrator that had been stuffed in the bottom of your pack.

You look up at him with fear in your eyes, but he’s got that eyebrow up again.

“Carrying the essentials huh?”

“I-“

“I have so many questions about why you’re hiking with a vibrator, but you look way too embarrassed to answer them honestly. You can keep that for yourself.”

You quickly shove it and the rest of your things back into your soaked backpack.

“So, you’re just… in the middle of the wilderness, alone, with a phone and a vibrator. And no one to call. And you’re sure you’re not a serial killer?” he winks playfully.

“I swear I forgot that was in there!”

“Hey, sorry. I am the last person who’s gonna judge you for somethin’ like that. And you’re not the only person here with a vibrator,” he winks again.

“You sure you’re not a serial killer?” you flush.

“Would it make a difference if I said no?” he can’t help the grin on his face. “Kyoko, my housekeeper, is done with dinner. Would you like to eat with me?” He picks up the damp towel from the table.

“That would be nice, thank you. You’re a good host.”

“I’ll admit, I don’t get a lot of visitors. Or… any visitors, really. But against my better judgement, I’m not gonna let you freeze to death outside. And you seem… relatively harmless,” he smiles again fiddling with the towel in his hands.

The woman you saw earlier sets plates of food down on the table, and Nathan hands her the towel.

“This looks amazing, I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. You kinda looked like a wet cat when you got here. No offense,” he bites his lip and glances over at you.

“None taken,” you laugh.

“Do you drink?” he glances at you when he sees you reach for an empty glass.

“I’m not much of a drinker, but I like the occasional wine!”

He chuckles fondly, “We can definitely do wine. I have a Chateau Lafite 1787 and a Cheval Blanc 1947 that are begging to be opened. And… from the look on your face, you have no clue what that means. Kyoko, grab the Cheval.”

“I admit I don’t know! But I can tell you do. You seem to know a lot about a lot of things. Including saving someone from hypothermia,” you almost grimace at the memory.

”That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” he chuckles taking a generous sip of his freshly poured wine. “Damn… this is the good shit.”

You watch him drink and it’s beginning to hit you. This is really him; this is the Nathan that you have his social media accounts on notifications. This is the Nathan that you’ve watched random tech videos you have no interest in but wanted to hear his voice. And now you’re sitting across from him, at his table, watching him drink wine.

“You definitely seem to enjoy the finer things in life, don’t you? And yes, this is good, especially with the meal. I’m not used to this much luxury. I feel like I don’t belong here,” you bite your lip. He’s a genius. Famous and sexy as hell and you’re just-

“Well, you get used to a certain way of living when you’re… me,” he chuckles.

“This wine probably costs more than I make in a month,” you laugh taking another sip. “I don’t know what I’d do if I even had a million dollars.”

“Done.”

“Pardon?”

“I can wire your bank tomorrow.”

“Wait, you can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” he shrugs. “Pocket change. Consider it a get well soon present. So, what’s home like for you?” He changes the subject so abruptly, but you go along with it, but it’s hard to keep up.

Suddenly you feel like spilling your whole life out to this man. That you’re stuck. You live at home because you can’t make ends meet and nothing seems to stick. You’re looking for something, but you don’t know what it is.

“I live in a small town. It’s cozy. Simple. But sometimes it feels too small. That’s why I wanted to get away. See something new. I realize how I’ve not experienced much in my life. I want excitement. I want- well I want to move away. That’s what I want.”

He takes another sip of his wine and you can’t help but stare at his delicious beard.

“I specialize in exciting, honey. You stumbled into the right place,” he grins, another soft chuckle escapes his lips.

“I think I did, though it sounds like you know something I don’t know.”

His brow raises as he smirks devilishly, “there’s a lot you don’t know, kitten. There’s a lot I can show you. I didn’t come out here just to be alone.”

Your stomach drops and you feel your face heat. He’s called you two pet names back-to-back. His eyes are fixed on you, watching every move on your face. He’s calculating, tucking everything away into his memory.

“K-kitten?” you find your words, but you sputter on your wine. “Did you just call me kitten?”

His smirk only seems to grow. The confidence is oozing out of him and it’s thick in the air.

“You liked that, didn’t you? Your pupils are dilated.” He causally sips his wine as if he didn’t just ruin your whole life with a short sentence.

He’s rendered you speechless, the very air in your lungs is gone. And there’s a feeling low in your belly. A pang of arousal and need and thrill hits you all at once.

“I-“ your words are lost again, but he speaks up for you.

“Look, kitten,” he punctuates the word, he’s teasing you now. “You obviously did. Can we just skip to the part where we have the conversation?”

“The conversation?”

“Y’know. The one where I tell you I’m not just interested in you because you’re the first person that’s come around here, like… ever, but because you’re beautiful and interesting and genuinely fun to be around. And that you need to make the first move if you want this as much as I do because I’m not some rich asshole who’s trying to take advantage of the fact that you’re completely vulnerable right now. That conversation.” He sips his wine again, and you feel like you might pass out or jump across the table into his lap. You’re too frozen to do either.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Honey,” he sighs setting down his wine glass and folding his hands together resting his elbows on the table. “I don’t mince words. And let me put it to you clearly. You’re exactly my fuckin’ type.”

“Is this really happening?”

“Only if you want it to baby. But I’m as real as it gets. And I couldn’t have made a more perfect woman if I tried, and I have.” He mumbles the last part into his wine glass, it’s so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

“Look Nathan, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m in love with you.”

Both his eyebrows raise in question and a smile grin spreads across his face.

“No, I mean,” you bury your face in your hands, “I mean I have a crush on you, you’re kind of… my celebrity crush,” you wince a little and peek out from behind your hands. “My cousin really does own a timeshare and I really did want to get away, but I came because I thought you would be nearby. I didn’t actually think I’d be having dinner with you after you saw me naked.”

“So, that explains the vibrator then,” he scratches his chin, pretending he’s lost in thought. He’s messing with you but when he sees your obvious distress he leans back in his chair. You think he’s about to apologize when you get up and walk down the hall and pick a random room that’s open.

You sit down on a couch and look up to see a Jackson Pollack painting on the wall. Lights are angled at it, it’s the focal point of the room.

A few moments later you hear a soft knock on the doorframe.

Nathan walks in and leans against the desk under the painting, he’s facing you. His arms are crossed, but he doesn’t look angry.

“Look, I wanna talk to you about earlier. I know I come on….strong. And it’s a shitty excuse but you’re the first real woman I’ve seen in months that isn’t my housekeeper and what I said before about you being my type? Shit. I scared you, didn’t I?”

“It’s just overwhelming,” you flush. “My celeb crush saw me naked today and wants to have sex with me. Not to mention you offered me a MILLION dollars without batting an eye!”

“Okay, okay. How can I put you at ease about this? We obviously have a connection. And you might as well stay until I can fix your phone.”

“What about the money?”

“I could put you to work. I’m writing a thesis. And I need to make sure it’s readable to someone who may not understand all this,” he moves his hands around in the air.

“Is that worth a million dollars?”

“It would be to me; I need help on this.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” he smiles, he seems so excited. “Great. I’ll take you to a room you can stay in. Let me give you a tour of the place.”

Your tour ends with the bedroom. He tells you goodnight and disappears down the hall. You shimmy out of the sweatpants but leave on the Henley and slide into the bed. The sheets are soft, silky. There’s a thick warm blanket on top and you snuggle deep under the covers.

You’re thinking about your day, what a crazy day it’s been. You try not to linger on the naked part, but you think more about his skin. The warmth. The touch of his beard. His obvious desire for you at dinner. You wonder what he’s doing right now. You wonder if he’s thinking about you as much as you are thinking about him. Maybe you have some charge left in the vibrator….

// 

if this looks familiar....it’s because w/ permission from @sergeantkane, i wrote a fic based on my thread w/ her on @thatortheschlong!! 

// 

next part will come on thursday feb 18th!

// 

tagging: @punkpascal​, @pascal-isaac​, @wasicskosgirl​, @velvetmel0n​, @huliabitch​, @shadow-assassin-blix​, @writefightandflightclub​, @aellynera​, @softboywriting​, @veuliee2​, @spider-starry​, @mylifeliterally​, @millllenniawrites​, @ntlmundy​, @foxilayde, @writingletterstothefire​, @mandoplease, @anetteaneta​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @artsymaddie​, @shakespeareanwannabe​, @thevalentinowhitebag​, @deanfanatic​

[buttybarnes1917]

An Unexpected Party

Chapter 5

AN: I know I said I couldn’t write for a while, but I got so stressed I had to work it out somehow.  

You smoothed your dress out sighing softly as you played with the thin fabric, lost in thought.  Wanda smiled gently at you through the mirror as she braided your hair back.  Yelena looked over at you a little nervously, smoothing her dress shirt down as she paced back and forth in the hotel room you shared with the two of them.  

“Are you okay,” she finally asked, and Wanda watched your reaction.

They had every right to be worried.  You and Steve hadn’t ended well, and Steve could be petty.  You should honestly have been worried about what he could do, what he was planning.  Your friends hoped the fact that it was Tony’s wedding would have dissuaded him from anything that Steve could have been planning, but honestly? You weren’t even thinking about him.

Instead, your thoughts were consumed by a tall, lanky brunette with piercing blue eyes, and lips softer than any you had ever kissed before.  

“Hmm?” you asked, blinking as Yelena poked your shoulder.  

“I asked if you were okay,” she asked softly.  

“Sure,” you said smiling a little.  “Why wouldn’t I be? Pepper and Tony are getting married tomorrow.”

“Right… and you have to see Steve.” Yelena said, her eyes on yours.  You could feel Wanda’s gaze and you looked down at your hands.

“He’s moved on.” You said quietly.  “I have too.”  Wanda’s eyes widened a little and she covered her mouth giggling a little.

“Wait… WAIT. YOU AND JAMES?” Yelena yelled and you and Wanda both hushed her, giggling. “Does Steve know??”

“I don’t know, Wanda blocked him on my Instagram,” you said and Wanda grinned.

“I blocked him on all of our Instagrams,” she corrected you.  

“Wait no stop back up.  What happened to make you want to date him?” Yelena yelped.

“He painted Tony a portrait of our family… as a present.” you said softly and Yelena’s eyes widened.

“He… he hasn’t painted since he was with his ex,” she said quietly.  

“He’s painting more today,” you say, blushing a little.  “He got his studio up and running last night.  I helped him with that a little… and he’s pitching a little sitcom to your dad’s company next week.  He already has the script… it’s so funny.”

Yelena stared at you.  “He’s…. creating again,” she said softly and smiled a little, sitting in the chair near you. “He… he hasn’t done that in years.” She swallowed hard and took your hand squeezing it in a silent thanks.  You squeezed back and Wanda patted your shoulders gently.

“Alright.” She smiled softly.  “Come on then.  You need to get downstairs.  Pepper needs her maid of honor.”

You giggled softly with Pepper as everyone lined up to start the rehearsal. You knelt down to fix the flower girl’s crown, giggling, and tapping the tip of her nose as she wrapped her legs around your knees.  Pepper took your hand gently.

“Just so you know,” she said softly, “You’re walking back on the recessional with Steve.”

You frowned immediately. “Pepper—”

“I’m sorry… he’s the best man,” she said softly.  “We had to keep the line up the same.”  You swallowed hard.  

“Okay,” you mumbled a little as you gently pushed the flower girl back into line.   “Alright, Peggy, you’re gonna do great,” you said softly to her, and she bit her lip nervously as you heard the music start up. You felt Pepper’s grip on your hand tighten a little and you looked back at her, smiling softly.  “I’m so proud of you,” you said quietly, and Pepper smiled nervously.  You turned and watched the other bridesmaids walk down the aisle and started your walk.

At the end of the aisle was Steve Rogers, in his stupid light blue suit, with his stupid beard and his stupid muscles, his eyes only on you.  

In a way, it was fitting for this to be how you met again.  In fact, he had promised that one day, you both would be taking part in this same event.  That you would be having children together, a house, a dog, vacations to Disney.  You felt hot, angry tears spilling onto your cheeks as you turned away from him and stood at the left of the altar. All of this could have been yours, would have been yours, should have been yours.  You straightened angrily and rubbed your eyes quickly, unwilling for him to see you cry again because of him.  Pepper walked down the aisle, rolling her eyes at Tony catcalling her, and you giggled as Tony made faces at you and Pepper, cracking jokes about prenups and divorce rates.

Steve’s eyes never left you.  

The ceremony rehearsal was just Pepper sniffling and Tony trying to get her to laugh, which eventually worked.  He had pulled her into his chest with a kindness you had yet to see him use toward anyone but her.  You took a deep breath as they walked back down the aisle, practicing the recessional, and Steve was suddenly there, his arm ready for you to take.

You gritted your jaw, pasted on a smile, took his arm, and began what felt like a mile long walk back down the aisle.  

“Do you ever miss us?” Steve asked you quietly.  It felt like your ears were buzzing, your cheeks flushed angrily. Did you ever miss us? The two of you? The quiet moments, the happy times, the peaceful picnics and Sunday hikes and sitting on the roof watching the sunrise and the gentle kisses…

“No.” you answered quietly. “I don’t miss us. At all.”

“Y/N,” he said quietly.  “Please. I never wanted us to end badly.”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t have ended.” You shoot back, ducking your head as Pepper peeked over her shoulder at you.  “You don’t get to miss us,” you say as you pull away from him as you ended the walk back to the foyer.  “You’re the one that ruined it.  Go back to your model.  I’m sure she’s missing you.”  You turned and walked away, feeling your hands shaking nervously.  Yelena and Wanda looked up from their chairs and waved you over, Yelena glaring in Steve’s direction.  

“I can go smack some sense into him.” She offered and you shook your head as you sank into your seat.

“Not at Peppers wedding,” you said quietly, and looked at your phone. Bucky should be here any minute to accompany you to dinner.  You felt your body relax as you thought of him and his kind eyes again.  Steve never treated you like Bucky did.  Bucky was sweet, and kind, and he actually listened to the thoughts you had, instead of just waving his hand as you ranted to the air.

“Lover boy is here,” Yelena giggled quietly, and you looked up immediately and smiled as Bucky walked in with a single daisy in his hand. He wore dark jeans and a suit jacket with a nice, collared shirt on underneath.  As soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up and he grinned.  “Oh Christ, the lovey dovey look,” Yelena groaned and Wanda slapped her arm laughing.  

“Let them be cute.  When was the last time you saw Y/N this happy?”

You ignored the both of them, taking in a shaky breath as Bucky walked toward you, grinning.  You pushed yourself out of the seat and wrapped your arms around him gently as he pulled you into him softly.  “You look stunning,” he said quietly into your ear and you blushed furiously.  

“Thank you,” you giggled softly.

“So this is the man that’s got my sister all heart eyes,” Tony chuckled as he walked over.  You pulled away, blushing furiously.  

“Tony, this is—”

“Tony?” Bucky asked, confused.  Tony slowed down as he approached.

“James?”

“What are you—” Bucky asked in confusion.  You looked at him, confused.  

“Tony is my stepbrother,” you explained slowly.  “Do you know each other?”

“Yeah… He’s-“ Tony started to say, but you saw all the color leave Bucky’s face as Steve rounded the corner of the room.  Steve looked up from his phone, and saw Bucky, freezing for a minute.

“Buck?”

“…Steve?” Bucky asked, his voice breaking a little. Yelena looked at Steve, then at Bucky, and her eyes widened.  

“Fuck,” she breathed out and pushed herself up.  

It suddenly hit you.  Bucky’s secretive nature about his ex, the way he used gender fluid pronouns, the few basic details he had provided…

James Barnes and Steve Rogers had dated before.  

TAGLIST:

@ceeellewrites​ @anna-kaye​ @toothhurtyam​

[thessalian]

Thess vs Nightmare Day

So anybody want to hear how everything went wrong today? If so, keep reading. If not, you might want to scroll and hope you find something adorable. Sorry.

So on top of the whole “they passed draconian bullshit bills and I’m now living in fear that we’ll never get rid of this bunch of assholes” thing yesterday ... well, it starts with the whole cost of living crisis here. There’s issues with my Access to Work because they’re going on public transport costs and taxi firm estimates from January. Things have changed a lot since January, and the price of everything is higher, and now I’m waiting for a re-evaluation of the whole thing and honestly, most of the time it just isn’t even worth it.

However ... so yesterday when I was coming home, on my usual bus, it went on diversion past my stop, stopping instead at one that obliges me to walk up a sizeable hill to get home. Apparently, the water main that burst last year, and keeps bursting every six to eight months, burst again and they’re going to be spending a week fixing it. So there am I boned; up and down hills just to get to the bus? That’s now a thing for the next week.

So this morning I hauled myself to the bus stop my bus diverts to ... and the driver decided that since it wasn’t her regular stop, and it was annoying to stop because there was a fire truck blocking the bus lane, she just wasn’t going to stop. So I had to hop a separate bus to get to a stop where my usual bus would pick me up. So that was fun. Also, loads of traffic because apparently Thames Water is tearing up every road it possibly can and those that aren’t closed completely are doing the single-lane thing and that tends to back up the traffic.

Then there was the bunch of tourists who apparently missed the memo that you can’t pay cash on the bus anymore and didn’t have so much as a debit card that could be used on contactless, which was five minutes of wheedling before the man let them take a free ride. Which was nice of him but slowed us up. And then more traffic. I was on time, but only because I leave early because of the potential for public transport bullshit.

Anyway. Got to work, and half the staff were out, and all of the people generating typing for us were working double-time because they wanted to get decks cleared before the bank holiday weekend. And since one of the people who generally does the typing was doing paperwork-related stuff instead, and another couple just weren’t there, that put the workload on myself and the Temp. Just us two. And while she wasn’t working unduly slowly, she was keeping to usual pace. I did not feel I could do that as the queue was edging into double figures, so I overdid it. The queue was still insane when I left, but I typed up about 200 macros today. OW.

Also there was no sugar in the break room, so if I wanted coffee, I had to take it entirely black, which I dislike immensely. I did actually down a cup black, but only because I needed the caffeine so badly. Just ... ugh.

With all of that, there was the concern about getting back home. I didn’t feel up to hiking up that hill again with the day I’d had thus far, and I thought, “Okay, it’ll be an extra bus fare but I can catch another bus that actually lets out a little closer to my front door, though it goes a slightly longer route and doesn’t turn up as often”. So I got as far as Peckham and waited for said very specific bus ... and waited ... and waited ... and waited. I was getting suspicious that no bus was turning up after awhile so I checked online. Turns out that the stop I was at was one of the three that bus wasn’t going to be stopping at for the time being - more fucking roadworks. So I had to walk back a stop. Though I did have the warm fuzzies of letting everyone else who was waiting for that particular bus know that it was a waste of time. (THEY SHOULD HAVE HAD FUCKING SIGNS. THEY DID NOT HAVE FUCKING SIGNS.)

I haven’t been sleeping well lately. The Tories have fucked us every which way but north in terms of our rights and liberties. The weather’s gone cold again and I’m trying to avoid turning up the heat. And now my commute is all fucked up.

At least it’s the weekend. I’m supposed to have a D&D thing on Saturday but the way I feel right now, I can’t imagine generating character sheets in time. I can try. But if I feel tomorrow like I suspect I will, it’d be a waste of time anyway. Gods, I just need one good thing to happen to me today. Though the day’ll probably end with my quietly passing out.

[bubblegumbeech]

Passing Through

Dannymay Day 5: Doorway

“Don’t go in there,” his mother warned. Her voice shook. “Never go through that door.”

Danny had no intention of ignoring his mother, especially since the night she’d given him that warning was seared so thoroughly in his mind he didn’t think even as an adult he’d ever forget it.

It had been dark, but not any darker than any other night with Danny’s myriad nightlights and glowing stars stuck everywhere he could reach and then some. The night had long since settled, and Danny was supposed to be sleeping and was instead, like any young child, not doing that.

In fact, he’d been staring out his window, arm balanced on the sill and face pressed up against the glass so he could see the night sky in all her glory. It was one of the only times he felt truly comfortable, alone and with his parents and sister asleep. He often imagined himself sailing amongst those stars. Or flying high enough to reach out and cradle one to his chest. 

Jazz always told him that was impossible, that each star was as far away from each other as they were from earth, if not further. He told her she could eat dirt, and she got a hurt look in her eyes that made him feel bad, but he didn’t apologize because she was being mean first. 

He’d been preoccupied, that’s why he didn’t notice it at first. 

When the soft pink touch of the sun started obscuring the night’s stars, Danny realized he’d been up all night and he was probably going to fall asleep in class again. He turned around to quickly dive into bed to at least feign having slept so his parents didn’t scold him and feel like they had to check in on him at night the way they threatened to last time. 

He hadn’t expected the door. 

It was small, very small compared to a normal door. It was just large enough that Danny could crawl through on all fours, and he knew there was no way his dad would ever be able to get through. At least not more than an arm. Maybe his head if he tried to dive through it.

The door was closed, a soft, purple light on the other side painting the carpet beneath where it stood, balanced, in the middle of the room. Acting as if it was placed in the wall like any good door, but missing the wall itself entirely. 

Danny walked closer, his mind off bed times and getting ready for school entirely. Now he was thinking of adventures and stories Jazz used to read him before he could read himself. Stories of exploration and hidden worlds. His hand brushed against the polished brass handle, and a jolt of electricity flowed through him, causing every hair in his body to stand on end. 

He probably should have let go then, released the handle and backed up, frightened. But instead Danny’s grip tightened and he twisted the nob, pulling it slowly open, his heart beating in rapt anticipation. It was barely open a sliver, the tiniest bit of purple light spilling out onto the frame, when his mother ran into the room and slammed it closed. 

She was wearing a hazmat suit, as if she’d just come from the lab downstairs, with thick rubber gloves and ominous red goggles that reflected a twisted version of Danny’s face back at him as she pulled him into a tight, unforgiving hug. 

“Thank goodness you’re safe,” she said, her words heavy with exertion. Had she run up here? How did she know there was a door? 

Danny looked over his mother’s shoulder to take another look, but the door had vanished at some point when his eyes were no longer locked upon it. That was when she gave him her warning. The one he had no intention of ignoring.

The one he was disregarding now, for no reason other than he was sick of it. He was tired of the nights, laying awake and seeing a door that promised so much and had yet to be given the opportunity to deliver. 

His mother would skin him alive if she knew, but she’d probably never find out. Honestly, if Tucker’s theories were true and it was some monster trying to trick him into its lair Coraline-style, it’d probably take at least a week for her to even realize he was gone. His dad probably wouldn’t notice at all. 

Jazz…

Danny shook his head. If anything, Jazz would be the one to forgive him for being dumb. She understood what it was like to have this burning curiosity, this need to know. 

The door didn’t always appear. Most nights it did, but only when Danny was distracted by something, usually the stars outside his window, sometimes a particularly fun video game or a good book. It only ever appeared right on the cusp of night and morning, before the sun rose fully but after the stars hid away. And it always waited for him to look away before it disappeared. 

He didn’t plan on looking away tonight. 

The first night after his mother’s warning, he’d stayed up all night, terrified, waiting for the door to appear. It never did. In fact, the next month, he spent every second awake expecting it to appear and being almost disappointed when it didn’t. 

It appeared again, in much the same way it had the first time, while Danny was star gazing. 

That’s why, now, knowing the rules (or rather what few rules he could tell from this side of the door), Danny was determined to follow through. None of his questions would be answered just waiting for the door to appear or not appear, nor would they be answered by spending time staring at it and studying it from the outside. 

He needed to go through.

The brass knob was cold against his palm, and it turned easily. The click of the mechanism was loud in the night’s quiet. He held his breath. He opened the door.

There was no resistance when it swung open. Almost the opposite, in fact, like it had been waiting for an excuse. The soft purple light that had teased the edges of the door was much closer to a deep, swirling purple that looked almost like mist and obscured the path forward. 

But Danny wasn’t scared. 

He was curious. 

He stepped through, and heard the door close softly behind him. Just like in a horror movie really, and exactly like the stories his mother told him, warning him of monsters and things from the other side. 

It didn’t matter anymore, if he’d made the right choice. He’d made his choice and there was only one path to take. Danny walked into the mists and kept walking.

No more than an hour could have passed, but it felt like much longer. Time seemed to stretch along with the endless path, and Danny hadn’t come any closer to the answers he wanted. 

He sighed. “Hello? Is anyone here?” he tried calling out, to no avail. 

This was turning out to be a waste of a trip. With all the cryptic warnings, he’d hoped it wouldn’t be boring at the very least, yet here he was. The only difference between this and one of Sam’s ‘nature hikes’ was that Danny couldn’t see anything through the damned purple mist.

Or could he?

Danny squinted his eyes, catching something moving just to his left. It was very much hidden, the deep purple of its cloak camouflaged perfectly against the swirling purples all around him. He took a step closer, off the path, and felt the air still around him.

A voice, haunting and deep, startled him. 

“A quick learner,” it said. 

Danny felt his mouth go dry. There was actually someone here, someone that might not be human. Someone that could summon a door into a kids room for half a decade waiting for them to open it. 

Someone who might have answers.

Danny stepped closer, and the mist seemed to gather, catching on itself and folding into a physical shape. The hooded figure. Danny forced himself not to blink. It felt like anything was possible, that if he looked away, he’d miss too much to make sense of it later. 

The hooded figure turned to him and beckoned with one gloved hand, the other holding a twisting, intricate staff covered in shapes and symbols Danny couldn’t quite make out. Danny didn’t step any closer.

It was clear this man wasn’t human, or at the very least hadn’t been for some time. The only thing Danny could see hidden under the cloak was an old clock. But even then, Danny couldn’t tell whether it was something he was wearing on his chest or if it simply was his chest and there was nothing else.

“You’re still cautious, even now when you’ve already made your decision?” the figure asked. “Did you not seek an answer to your curiosity?”

Danny frowned. This whatever-it-was knew more than he was comfortable with. Had he been watching from the other side? How? Is that why the door only appeared when it did? Why couldn’t he just open the door and step out if his goal was to spirit Danny away like in the stories? 

There were just so many questions, and Danny still didn’t have any answers. 

“Do you actually have any answers or are you just going to eat me?” he asked, growing irritated. It had been a long night, made longer by his fruitless walk, and it was starting to affect his temper.

Instead of answering, the figure lowered his arm, tilting his head to the side. “If you thought I was going to eat you, why did you come through the door? You’ve been very good at ignoring it so far.” 

“Yeah see,” Danny said, throwing up his hands, “that kind of stuff only makes you sound more creepy and suspicious, you know! If your goal is child eating you should set up, idk a candy house or something. Pretend to be a grandma, I hear that works wonders provided you stay out of your own oven.”

The figure laughed. It sounded, off, not like a noise Danny recognized, but more like a collage of sounds: a ticking clock chiming with heavy clanking clockwork all wrapped in canary song and it vibrated all the way through Danny from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It filled the air around them much like the mist once did and Danny felt glee himself, caught up as he was.

He looked up desperately at the figure, trying to keep ahold of himself and how he truly felt, lost in the sudden sea of emotion. The figure’s cloak was bunched up, as if he was doubled over in laughter, his gloves clutching at his staff and the entire collection shaking with slight tremors.

The hood turned towards him, empty, and Danny’s panic spiked. The laughter stopped, and the figure stood once more, pulling the hood further down and hiding the nothingness underneath.

“I apologize,” he said, sincere. “It’s been some time since I’ve felt in such good humor, and you took me off guard. I hope you didn’t get too swept away?”

Danny, who was still definitely feeling the effects of the other’s laughter, shook his head no. “I’m alright. I just- what are you?”

“I am like Clockwork,” he answered readily. “Though the question you should be asking, Daniel, is what are you? That is a much more interesting answer.”

Disagreeing vehemently, Danny shook his head. Like Clockwork? Was that his name? Why he had a clock, er, was a clock? How did that work? What was he? Simply what his name implied? Something more? There were a billion and a half questions he wanted answers to that were more interesting than that. 

Then again, there had to be a reason he said it, right? “Okay Clockwork, I’ll bite. What am I?”

He could swear the thing smiled. “You are halfway there.”

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 4

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 4.6 k

note: hey, y'all. i know i've been awol and i'm really sorry about it, but, well - first i went back to uni for a while and got busy with my classes and my boyfriend. but this lasted for, like, barely three weeks, and then i came back home and got covid. yep, i finally got unlucky. my parents got it, too, after me, and the three of us had been home quarantined and getting treated for the past month or so. we're in better health now, though, so i'm getting back into writing. here's hoping i pick up speed super quick! 💜

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Your first week of heading this project with all its roadblocks and exhaustion, as it turned out, had merely been a taste of what was to come.

Your Wednesday at work began on a positive note, though. 

Towards the middle of the day, your phone rang, making both you and Jungkook jump. 

Cursing, you pursed your lips at Jungkook apologetically, and fished the device out. He nodded at you with a chuckle. 

Looking at your phone screen, you realised this was a call you'd been waiting for.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m calling to inform you that we’re done.”

Your eyebrows immediately hiked up your forehead. “Wow, really? That’s great news!”

“Yeah, the cleaners will be in tomorrow morning. You can move in by tomorrow evening.”

You actually grinned. “That’s such fantastic news! Thank you so much, Mister Lin. I’ll initiate your payment later, today.”

“Anytime, ma’am. Thank you.”

You disconnected the call with a happy sigh. Jungkook squinted at you. “That sounded like a fun conversation.”

You nodded, smiling. “Our team is moving into an apartment, tomorrow.”

“Wow! You’ve been in the hotel for what, ten days now? Must feel nice!” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You nodded with a sigh, shutting your eyes in relief. “Oh, yes. We’d made reservations at the hotel for fifteen days. We had to move into the apartments within this week. This feels so amazing. I’ll finally be able to prepare my own food.”

Jungkook giggled at that, scrunching his nose up. “Where’s the apartment? Hope it isn't too far.”

“Oh, no, it’s a few blocks away from here. Which is why we had to book a hotel in the first place. We needed two four-bedroom apartments on the same floor, in this specific radius, in three days.” You paused to laugh when Jungkook’s jaw dropped with a gasp. “It was a very hard find. But our agent was sharp, he did a great job.” You clapped your hands together. “I cannot wait to check out of the damn hotel.” 

Jungkook nodded in understanding. “Hotels are hard. It could be a seven star luxurious penthouse, but you’d still wanna run away from it after a while.” 

He seemed to be speaking from his personal experience, but running away from a seven star luxurious penthouse? You couldn’t relate. You hated your hotel because the curtains weren’t dark enough and the mattress was stiff and you couldn’t afford getting any of them changed. You also hated having to order Chinese every single day, but you also knew you’d be emptying your bank account if you got anything else.

None of this would trouble someone living in a seven star’s penthouse. But you didn’t want to make Jungkook uncomfortable by stating any of this when he was just trying to be a bit compassionate and empathetic.

“Food doesn’t bother me that much, though,” Jungkook continued after a thoughtful pause. “We’re usually either on diets or order takeout. I personally hate the mattresses.”

“Oh yes,” you sighed deeply, the kink in your upper back in absolute agreement. “I’m not really a fan of sleeping anywhere other than my mattress back at home, but hotel beds are the worst of it.”

Jungkook chuckled, nodding. “I completely understand. You remember that story I told you about lugging my beddings over to our dorm when we first moved into one?”

You nodded with a laugh. “Oh, yes. The rest of the boys were getting new mattresses, and you were busy dragging your mattress from your parents’ house. It may sound hilarious, but it’s actually very relatable.”

Jungkook looked a bit bashful as he nodded. “You know, when we first started preparing for our first tour, I had a half a mind to take it with me.”

You barked out a loud laugh at that, the mental image of Jungkook dragging a seven by four piece of bedding around and stuffing it into trailers. He laughed, too.

“Yeah, it was funny and really stupid. Half the time we didn’t even get to sleep in the bed we had taken with us, but whenever we did, I was nodding off the second my head hit the pillow.” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled as he went down the memory lane. “That one was nothing in comparison to the tours we go on now, but it was our first ever experience so it was still pretty difficult adjusting, Tour schedule is a different level of hectic, you know? You don’t have time to eat, you don’t have time to sleep. Just rehearsals and fittings and sound checks. I would fall asleep in makeup chairs,” he confessed with a chuckle, shaking his head fondly, “and when noona would wake me up, I would recall how I wanted to bring my mattress here. Such naivete.”

You smiled, nodding along. You hadn’t yet gotten to the tour discussion yet, as it was planned out for the third month of your blueprint, so all of this was brand new to you. But, at this moment you didn’t want to bring up plans and blueprints. Jungkook was compassionately being candid with you. You were becoming friends, beyond your professional boundaries.

Sighing, you decided to impart something personal, too. “When I moved to the States and got into this company, I rented the apartment with an old friend who was already living there. And it wasn’t my first time living in a house away from my parents. I’d been a university student, lived in dorms then rented apartments, both solo and shared.” Jungkook looked at you pensively, nodding with a little furrow in his eyebrows. “But when I got to this apartment, got all this brilliant furniture set up, all new and fresh, I couldn’t sleep. I missed my home.” Jungkook’s eyes softened, lips pressing down into an understanding smile. “Not the dorm, not the studio I’d been renting—I missed my childhood bed.” You exhaled, recalling all your sleepless nights. “There's this connection you build with the place you call home. I’m sure you must have started to feel this way about your dorms as time went on.”

Jungkook softly smiled, nodding as he looked into space. “Very correct. Tour life made me realise this exact fact.”

You both sat in a few minutes’ quiet, basking in the nostalgic atmosphere you’d built around you.

Then Jungkook grinned at you. “Now you’ll get to experience real Seoul life.”

You laughed. “Oh, yes. And I honestly can’t wait for it. The local markets, the grocery stores, everything. Everything here is very unlike home.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it!” Jungkook exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

You went back to work soon after, with Jungkook tossing in questions about your move and suggestions about what all you should do in the city, every now and then.

It was a good, productive, joyous day. You were hardly even tired when you got back to your hotel to spend your last night on that stiff ass mattress.

Thursday had started off pretty much the same, except for you guys taking a slightly early departure to spare some extra time to set your new place up after your belongings were moved.

By late night, you were all settled in two, pleasant, well-furnished, well ventilated four-bedroom apartments, next to each other. Your housemates consisted of Sana and Simon. Needless to say, you weren’t a fan. But you needed a room to build the office in and you preferred it to be under the same roof as your bedroom because you tended to work odd hours when you couldn’t sleep. Simon and Sana volunteered to share the apartment with the office and you, so you didn't exactly have room for complaint.

From getting the apartment cleaned one last time to accept you all, to ensuring none of you had left anything significant behind in your hotel rooms—you didn’t trust the hotel staff enough to not misuse it if they found anything related to BTS in one of your rooms—you had been the one that took care of it all. It was kinda on you, because you didn’t trust anyone from your team to do the latter responsibly. So, quite naturally, you were dead on your feet by the time you got into your soft as a cloud beddings at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. Sleep pulled you in the seconds you rugged your covers up.

You were very dead on your feet when you got to the BTS dorm, five hours after you’d gotten into bed. You hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in your system for more than a few weeks, now, but man did you have a hangover.

So it goes without saying that when you bumped into someone on your way to Jungkook’s studio, your eyes were half shut. You wouldn’t have thought much of it and might have slinked away with a mumbled apology, if not for the familiar voice than greeted you.

“Good morning. Looks like you had a rough night?”

You blinked, miles away from sleep within a second when your eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones. Taehyung was dressed in the routine BTS loungewear that consisted of a pastel t-shirt that was one too many sizes bigger on him and dark sweatpants that covered his feet. His hair was the usual black and curly, mostly pulled away from his forehead with a few tendrils dangling over his brows.

Your interaction with him had been meagre throughout this week, only consisting of respectful nods of greetings and waves of goodbyes. You’d meant to ask him how Simon was doing and how he felt about his ideas being taken now, after you’d had a talk with Simon about it. But you didn’t know what you would do if he said he was hating how things were and wanted you to do something about it. So you had kept your mouth shut and watched from the sidelines as you tried to gauge Taehyung’s inner feelings by his facial expressions. 

He was an extremely closed off guy, never really letting his face show what he was truly feeling. But sometimes you would catch him looking into space as if he was zoning out of his conversation with Simon. Now, he could very well be thinking deeply about something Simon said—you really couldn’t be sure with the guy. But it had you worried, nevertheless.

God. Why did Simon have to pick out Taehyung’s name?

By the time you realised you’d been staring at him for too long, he had realized it too. “Anything wrong with my… hair?” he innocently questioned, threading his fingers through the front of it.

“No!” you yelped, making him flinch. “I mean, no, it’s not that. I, um. We were moving into our apartments last night and it got kinda late. My brain’s processing things a bit slow, today.”

Taehyung chuckled at that, nodding with his teeth on display. “It’s okay. Congratulations on the move. Hotels suck.”

You sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Awkward silence hung over the two of you as you looked at the floor, at your feet, at his feet, tried to discern if his pants were very dark gray or blue, cleared your throat, scratched your ear, met his shifty eyes again— 

“How…how is working with Jungkook?”

His question caught you off-guard. You looked at him in surprise. “Uh…it’s, um. It’s good. Very comfortable, very productive. It’s great, actually.”

Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips as he looked down again. “Simon has been a better listener this week. Did you talk to him?”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders on hearing that. You grinned at him with all your teeth. “Really? That is really good to know. Comforting, even. I did talk to him, yes.”

Taehyung looked into your eyes as his lips spread into a slow, soft smile. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I thought you would think I was stupid for demanding so much, but…” He shrugged his shoulder, one corner of his lips ticking farther up his cheek. “You made it work. I feel so much better now.”

You exhaled, willing your heart to not beat so fast. It was your job to ensure they were all comfortable, this was part of what you were getting paid for. But somehow, the way Taehyung seemed to have taken it so personally made you not wanna mention the fact in the moment.

Also, he didn’t know how this wouldn’t last. You’d been giving Simon tips to handle himself professionally around Taehyung, literally every single day. It kept the wheel running, but it was tiring both of you out, immensely. Simon was out of his element and you were getting slowly overwhelmed and under-rest due to the amount of responsibilities piling on for you. You were determined to talk this out with your boss, this Sunday, and find a way out before you broke.

Right now, though, you gave Taehyung a bashful smile. “I wanted you to be comfortable and feel good about working on this project, Tae. I am constantly working out plans to better it.”

Taehyung looked at you with so many emotions swimming in his eyes, that the intensity of it almost made you wanna look away. But you didn’t. Instead, you tried to decode what any of it could mean. 

This time the silence between you two was not awkward in the least. It was charged—heavy with this unknown tautness between your mind and heart and this indecipherable look in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Tae?”

The trance was broken by Jin, startling both of you.

He walked into the halfway from behind Taehyung, peering around him with a frown. His eyes widened when he saw you. You immediately bowed, always extremely cautious about being respectful around BTS’ oldest member. “Good morning, Jin-ssi.”

He chuckled at your address, insisting that you didn’t have to bow every single time. “Just the respectful good morning is fine. Did you just get here?”

You nodded, subtly glancing at Taehyung whose eyes were slightly rounded and still stuck on you. Why was he acting like you two were caught by Jin? You’d just been greeting each other and catching up!

Right?

Right.

“Ah! There comes Riya!” Jin suddenly announced the arrival of his partner on your team, cutely waving at someone behind you.

Your teammate Riya walked into the hallway after you, having walked here on her own insistence. “Good morning, Jin-ssi. Taehyung-ssi. Boss.”

You smiled at her, nodding in acknowledgement of the respect she paid. “Where’s Simon?” you questioned.

“Just here!” the man himself responded, rushing in after Riya. 

You met Taehyung’s eyes, and he nodded with a meaningful look and a small smile on his lips. Your heart felt light.

The unexpectedly happy and positive start you’d gotten in the morning lasted with you the whole day, making your time with Jungkook a lot fun, and fulfilling in terms of work, too.

When Sunday came in and you received your boss’ call, her first question was about how well you were settled in the apartments, followed by how you’d handled things with Simon. You had done a decent job on the former, but the latter was gradually turning out to be a pain in your ass. You told your boss as much.

“Drag it out for another week, and then design a change of gameplan. If he really isn’t doing a good enough job by himself, it’s better if he works with someone else. This whole charade will tire both of you out. And V would be facing issues, too, if Simon’s heart isn’t into it.” Your boss had looked at you solemnly through the computer screen.

“Simon’s heart’s a bit too much into it, boss, that’s the whole issue.” You had derisively chuckled at your joke, but her words had left you thinking into the late hours of the night.

Taehyung had definitely been facing issues, you’d heard it from the man himself. And the respite he thought he’d gotten this week was momentary, because neither you nor Simon could honestly keep up with it for too long. And it was very unfair to Taehyung. This book was supposed to showcase a part of all the boys. A biography was the culmination of one’s whole life—something very personal, precious and endearing. The process of its creation should have been a similar experience for the boys, too.

You really would have to assign someone else to Taehyung.

On Monday morning, you knocked at Simon’s door at seven.

“Just this week, and then you switch,” you told him.

“Really? Oh, my God, thank you so much!” Simon cried out.

“Please accommodate him the best you can.” You sighed. “I’m too tired to give you notes everyday. Will you be able to manage?”

“I’ll accommodate him the best I can, just as you said.”

You hadn’t taken his word for it, but it seemed like the knowledge of his misery ending soon had done Simon well. He did a fair job of maintaining his professional composure, and on Tuesday, when you went in to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you saw the two of them laughing about something, too. Taehyung had politely greeted you, exchanging more than a nod for the first time in more than ten days—minus that one altercation in the hallway, of course—and then immediately went back into the discussion.

He seemed to be really into it.

It made you feel a lot better. 

On Friday, you and Jungkook went for a walk by the pool in the late afternoon with a cup of ice cream in your hands. He brought up Taehyung, asking how the elder was doing.

“You told me he was having some trouble with his partner?” Jungook asked, biting into a huge glob of chocolate ice-cream like a maniac and braving the brainfreeze with a straight face.

You grimaced at the sight. Then exhaled, plopping a spoonful from your own ice cream into your mouth. “He’s doing a lot better, now. It might not last, though”

Jungkook, instead of quizzing your ominous statement, nodded in understanding. “Does it have something to do with what I told you about hyung’s personality?”

You sighed. “Pretty much. We might have to change his partner.”

Jungkook paused at that. “Is there a possibility that…” He trailed off, confused, doe eyes looking at you.

You couldn’t lie to him. You shrugged. “Everything’s on the plate.”

On Sunday evening, you decided to gather the team for the call with your boss. Sending them a quick message once you all got home, you hopped into the bathroom for a long, relaxing showe. 

When you came back, you stepped into your office to the welcome sight of your team occupying bean bags and chairs and spread across the entire surface area of the place.

Collectively, you all brought up Taehyung’s partner with the Editor-in-Chief.

“Why don’t you do it, Y/N?” your boss questioned you after the rest of them had briefed her with their progress so far and detailed out their future plans with their assigned boys.

You sighed. “I have been doing just as great as the rest of them, boss. It wouldn’t be ideal for me to stop working with Jungkook after we’ve been making such great progress.”

Your boss took her glasses off, the highlight on her nose glistening as her movement caught light. She shook her and then sighed. “One of you is going to have to make a sacrifice.”

Simon, rightfully, flinched with a guilty face.

“So either you talk one of your team members into doing it, or you do it yourself. You’ve got one whole week to discuss it. Tell me what you decide, next Sunday.”

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. You’d either have to force one of your team members. Or you’d have to disappoint Jungkook. Your prospects really weren't looking good. 

You would like to believe you and Jungkook had become friends in these three weeks. It is impossible to remain a stone-faced stranger with someone literally relaying the story of his entire life to you. And besides that, too, Jungkook was a very likeable guy. He was a curious soul with a myriad of interests. Taking notes on literally every topic would always branch out into an enthusiastic conversation between the two of you. 

Sighing as you recalled how the two of you had shared your roller-skating experience with each other just today, you shut your eyes and decided to finally go to sleep.

On Monday morning, your team members were gathered in your new office to begin with the scripting process of the biography. As you got down to comparing notes and checking off boxes, each one of you resolutely ignored the gigantic elephant in the room—that fact that one of you would not be working with the same person when this week was up.

Strangely, this forcible change of partners was weighing down on all of you not just because of how much more labour it would cost, but on an emotional level, too. Which was a very unfamiliar concept, at least to you. You never got attached to clients, knowing it would only cause hindrances when you had to criticize their work—which was why they were talking to you in the first place. You had been somewhat lucky too, in a way, because it wasn't easy for you to get attached to people.

But Jungkook turned out to be just a really easy person to get along with. You really had become friends.

This, you suddenly realised, would also mean that Jungkook would make friends with another partner just as easily.

“Guys, remember—it’s not just their story that we’re writing, it’s ours too!” you announced to your team, clapping your hands to raise their spirits as the six of them worked on their computers. “They’re the narrators, sure, but we are the writers. Use your words wherever you find fit, do not hesitate to trim, omit or add. This is what we were hired to do.” 

At noon, you all ordered takeout and took a break.

“We’re all really on schedule, boss,” Riya, Jin’s partner, spoke up from her spot across the room from you. Her rounded eyes narrowed suddenly, and she winced. “Well… except Simon, but we kinda already expected that.”

Simon, seated on a bean bag to your immediate right, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’ve been really shitty at your job, Si,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, commented, looking at Simon through her round framed glasses, her face displaying disappointment.

“He really has,” you added. “But it cannot go on like this. You’ll have to be really professional with your partner, this time round, Simon. You’ve really done a lot of damage with Taehyung. Boss won’t just pull you off the project if something like this happens again, she’ll fire you.”

Simon visibly gulped, nodding with his wide eyes fixated on you.

“So, who’s gonna take his place?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, butted in, prompting Sana to stop stretching. “Have you decided yet?” he asked you.

You exhaled. “Why not ask dear Simon who he wants to work with? The last time he kept protesting about the assigned choice, and I didn't listen. Maybe he’d have done better if the selection of his partner was voluntarily done by him.”

All eyes turned to Simon. He cleared his throat, looking beyond nervous. “Please don’t put me in this spot. One of you will have to let go of a month’s worth of hard work for me, as it is.”

You looked around the room. “Any one of you willing to switch?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at you incredulously. “No one’s gonna willingly give their research up for you, Simon,” Charlotte, the only redhead on your team and Hoseok’s partner, spoke with a roll of her eyes. “None of us.”

“Simon,” You sighed. “Choose.”

And then Simon squeezed his eyes shut and fisted both his hands to whisper, “Jungkook…maybe?”

Of fucking course.

Later that night, you had calmed yourself down enough to tell yourself that everything was gonna be okay. You could be a darn hardass professional when you needed to be. In fact, being humble and empathetic was usually what posed a challenge to you. You would very smoothly transition into working with Taehyung, you were sure of it.

You belatedly thought about how much change these past three weeks had already brought about in your nature. You were starting to show a lot more compassion than you’d thought yourself capable of. That kind of came in this job’s description, because biographies made people vulnerable, and vulnerable interviews required compassion. 

You had to unlearn some of the things you’d picked up over the span of your adult life to save yourself from hurt, and also the guilt that came with hurting others. Jungkook also helped, in a way. His openness and just the overall cheerful vibe that his nature eluded made you want to be more of a friend to him than a writing guide or an interviewer.

You wondered how Taehyung would be. 

There was something undeniably intense and mysterious about him. Now, you weren’t naive enough to want to “unravel” the guy’s mysteries, but you sure were irked and curious. Maybe he was one of those kinds of artists that literally lived in their art.

Back when you didn’t work in this company with this hectic schedule and had enough spare time on your hands to write, you used to pride yourself to be one of these kinds of artists, too. You lived in your stories, kept building characters up wherever you went, whatever you did. You wondered if it was something similar with Taehyung for music. 

You would find out, eventually. There was no point pondering it so much.

Sighing, you turned off your side lamp and decided to retire for the night.

Your writing week was gliding past smoothly. It was just Wednesday, and you all, ahead of the schedule, were at the verge of finishing up your writing parts.

“Are we super efficient or did we sign up for a longer duration of time than needed for this whole project?” Sana questioned, typing away on her laptop.

You snorted. “Or maybe, we didn’t design the blueprint with as much uniformity as we’re required to.”

“You don’t always have to critique everything, boss,” Charlotte, Hoseok’s partner chimed in, flipping her long mane of auburn hair off her shoulder as she shot you a look. 

You glared right back at her. “Uh, actually, I do. That’s kind of my job here.”

You’d been harsher than was needed, making the whole room go quiet. Only the clicking of keyboards echoed around you all for a while.

“Where’s Simon?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, asked after some time.

You sighed. “In his room, finishing up his writing work there. He doesn’t feel comfortable sitting between all of us because, and I quote, y’all give off really judgy vibes that fuck with my concentration.”

“That might actually be true,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, mumbled in Korean under her breath.

“Did you mail Manager Woo about the switch yet, boss?” Nathan asked you as you got up to get a refill of your coffee.

You exhaled. “Nope, I'm stalling,” you confidently confessed, leaving the office to make a trip to the kitchen. On your way back, you knocked at Simon’s door before peeking in. “You doing okay?” you asked him flatly.

Simon gave you a nod, not moving his gaze from the laptop screen. You rolled your eyes and came back to the office.

“Should one of us do it? If it won’t look too unprofessional?” Sana asked.

You wrinkled your nose. “It would look grossly unprofessional, Sana.” You pursed your lips as you sat behind your laptop again. “Fine, I’ll do it right now.”

You took a sip from your coffee, and opened your email. This was final, now — no coming back.

You were officially gonna start working with Kim Taehyung.

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